On Us The Moon Will Never Rise
by Tuesday The First
Summary: Rachel was given her first piece of silver at the age of five. werewolfAU
1. Prologue

Warning:_ Mild, bloody violence, dark themes, and multiple character death  
Done for the Live Journal GleeBigBang challenge. Enjoy._

**On Us The Moon Will Never Rise**

**Prologue**

Rachel was given her first piece of silver at the age of five.

She rode in the back seat of her daddy's jeep, fingering the pentagram hanging on her neck. Each edge was sharp and pointy. She was afraid the points would poke her in the collarbones but her dad told her it would be fine. That she was safe from harm as long as she wore the charm.

Leroy turned around to smile at her in the back. She grinned up at him as Hiram drove them through the wood trails on the edge of Pennsylvania. Branches of winter dead trees casted gnarled shadows on the windows and a half moon hung low on the horizon. The gentle hum of the radio kept getting tuned out by the crunch of earth under tires but Rachel wasn't listening to the songs playing. Her ears were perked on the soft chorus of howls that kept rising and falling through the night.

She took a deep breath, letting out a song on the note of the most recent one.

"Sounds good, sweetie," Leroy's eyes smiled at her in the mirror. "You're getting better."

She beamed in accomplishment. She knew she had the best call of the rest of the Hunter's kids. Brittany didn't have the perfect pipes like she did and Finn's voice cracked and puttered out quickly. Only Kurt rivaled her with his sweet falsetto.

The jeep came to a halt deep in the woods. Hiram shut off the car, quietly getting out. Rachel hastily undid her belt, grabbing the hand of her daddy Leroy letting him lead her to where the others stood.

A crowd of families stood around other parked cars. Rachel caught sight of the Hudson's talking softly to Mr. Hummel by their old station wagon and the Pierce's had their heads pulled in tight, whispering softly while Brittany stood between her dad's legs, big blue eyes wide and searching.

Finn peeked his head up from inside the car through the window. Waving to Rachel, he jumped out hurrying over to her on too big feet for his scrawny body. He smoothed back the cowlick in his hair only for it to spring right back out of place.

"Hey, Rachel," he blushed as he tripped over a limb.

"Hi, Finn," she let go of Leroy's hand. He patted her on the head, walking off with Hiram to speak with some of the others.

"Are you excited?" he asked her, fidgeting anxiously in his coat and puffy vest.

Rachel shrugged, looking across the dark woods. They were high on a rise that looked over a valley under the hill. Trees and darkness obstructed the view of what waited below them but Rachel knew. They all knew. It was why Mr. Motta had called all the hunter families in and near his district to come out.

He and Sue Sylvester, who was in charge of the Hunters Clan that Rachel and her dads were a part of, stood next to him at the edge. They stood intimidating over the rise, heads held high and eyes calculating. Their lips moved quickly and quietly of the plan.

"Hey," Brittany bounced over to them with her pigtails swaying. She grinned wide, exuding the same excited giddiness as Finn. "There's a lot of people here,"

Rachel nodded. It was at five Rachel's dads sat her down and told her what they did. She had cried, shouting at them that killing animals was wrong and that it wasn't fair.

It took her a while to learn that werewolves were not animals. They were monsters. Monsters that hid under beds and in closets waiting for little girls to go to sleep so they could attack them. Monsters that killed a lot of Sue's family and Motta's wife. Monsters who infected humans with their diseases, cursing them to live their half skin, half fur life.

"They're not going to take you away too!" Rachel had clutched the tail of her dad's coat, pleading that he and daddy didn't go on the hunt again. They each kissed her head and her dad Hiram bent down, hooking the silver necklace around her neck.

"Your daddy and I have one too," It was the first time she had noticed the little stars in the rings that each of them bore. The star meant safety. The star meant Rachel didn't have to worry about her dads or herself.

They were all ten now.

Ten and now old enough to go to the hunting party to learn. The excitement bubbled in her gut and made her throat ache to send out the call that would draw a wolf in, making them think that they were just another pack and not a gang of hunters with torches of fire and silver blades and bullets.

She had held her dad's blade once. It was heavy and too big for her small hands. Spirally designs of symbols Rachel hadn't known then were inscribed in the hilt. He took it from her and put it into his belt promising she'd get one just like it soon. When she was older.

Rachel wished she were older now as she watched the hunters all come together. All the children were rounded up to stay with Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Pierce while the others went out.

Rachel watched Brittany run to hug her dad tight around the waist and Mr. Hudson shared a deep kiss with his wife. Mr. Motta and Sue came into the circle, telling instructions of how the attack would be executed. Big words flew over her head but she got the gist of it.

A few packs had joined into one, living together in one of the deep wood villages amongst some of the humans. Fear struck a chord in Rachel's heart that she tried to swallow down. She was a hunter just like them. They weren't supposed to have a fear of these beasts because they could smell fear.

But Rachel's fear was for the poor humans. Had they known what things lived amongst them, would they still live there? Wouldn't they have called for the hunters to run them out? It was a scary thought for her to even try to understand.

A pack leader's name rose up in the crowd. _Adande. _The hunters hissed vial whispers.

Kurt, the Hummel's only son, leaned over towards them. "He's the wolf that killed Mr. Motta's wife," he informed them. "He's the worst."

She pursed her lips wishing she had known that bit of information. But with Kurt's dad owning the maintenance shop on the border of the districts, he had more insight into what happened in the Motta territory than the rest of them.

"Guys, shh," Brittany nudged him.

Rachel followed her luminous eyes to little Sugar Motta sitting on the bumper of her dad's car. She was younger than they were, but she was always at the hunts from what Rachel knew. She was always jealous that Sugar got to go way before she even knew about it.

A howl rose up in the darkness silencing the hunter's talk. A fierce flash of anger seared across Mr. Motta's face. Something glistened in the moonlight in his hand. Rachel squinted seeing a gun decorated in the same symbols of the blade she had held.

Sugar yelped, covering her mouth with a hand as the other hunters pulled out their weapons. Shiny blades and gleaming guns waved out dangerous looking in their sleek and glittering colors.

Rachel watched them closely all clad in thick, black leather perfumed with wolfsbane and zippers encrusted with silver. Brittany whispered that she thought their jackets were cool and Kurt said something about them being ugly. Finn stayed quiet, once thrilled eyes going slightly frightened. Rachel shared the same mix of emotions.

Her dad saw it and walked over to her. He bent down, placing a kiss on her forehead and tugged the beanie on her head down enough to cover the tops of her ears. "Stay safe," he smiled.

Leroy stood behind him, holding up a fist showing his ring. Rachel fished for her necklace, holding up the star to show him. They would be safe. They would all be safe she knew.

"Stay safe, dad," she tucked the charm away. "Stay safe, daddy,"

With another howl, Mr. Motta ordered them to come together. Boots cracked on twigs and branches as they headed down the edge and scaled down the hill.

Their steps quieted the farther they went with the sounds of howls growing louder and more frequent. The voice of one of the hunters rang out on the note of a wolf song. It was so similar Rachel had to try hard to find the difference in timbre that separated a wolf's howl from a human's imitation.

"Come on, everyone," Mrs. Pierce gathered all of them up near the cars.

They would be there until the end.

They would be there until the hunters came back.

They would be there until the hunters returned missing half of their numbers and searching for the children that hadn't been quick enough to hide away before the wolves came upon them.


	2. Part I

**Part I**

Rachel held her blade hilt deep into the wolf's side. Hot, thick blood ran onto her hand from where she had pierced him through right below the ribs. His body convulsed as the silver poisoned his system, running through the blood and into the heart.

He made not a sound as his furry body shuddered back into human form like each wolf did when it was seriously injured or dead. Jewel green eyes looked at her one last time before they closed and he went limp.

Rachel shoved the naked form off her, sliding back against the pavement. She cleaned her blade on the thigh of her dark pants until all the blackened red was off. Heaving, she sat back against a wall, wincing when the scratches along her shoulders hit into it.

They burned and pulsed like a separate heart that pulsated rapidly in her chest. She had been scared and she knew he saw it in her. Maybe it was that that had her win. He had gotten cocky at sensing her fear. He missed it when she rolled under his bulky russet body and plunged the knife in.

Closing her eyes, Rachel leaned her head back on her shoulders. Her left arm ached from where she fell on it. It would be sore for a few days but it wasn't broken. She thanked everything for that. A broken hunter was like an injured horse. It slowed you down, made you near useless. There would be no more need for you.

The bang of heavy footsteps drew her eyes open. Finn and Brittany came around the corner. On seeing her, Finn stopped, jaw dropping at the tattered, limp figure on the ground then at her bloodied and scratched clothes. His eyebrows creased, eyes angry.

"Rachel!" Brittany fell down beside her. Her nose twitched, catching the smell of Rachel's blood. "You're bleeding," She rolled her eyes but let Brittany lean her forward and examine the ribbons of claw marks across her back. She hissed when her finger touched one. "It's not very deep," her eyes widened. "Are you bitten?"

"No," She quickly answered. "But my arm…" She grimaced again when she tried to lift it. Brittany quickly stopped her, yanking off the scarf around her neck and tied it around Rachel's neck. She slowly eased her arm into the makeshift sling.

"You should've waited for us," Finn finally moved from his shell-shocked state. "We could've helped."

"I had it completely under control,"

He raised his eyebrows at the sight of her then to the lean, dead werewolf. The appearance a wolf held in skins hardly matched to what they were in furs. This one was lean, smaller than Finn. But his wolf was large and terrorizing. There was something in his eyes, something sickeningly predatory and almost near murderous human that had shaken Rachel.

"If they run then it is often a sign that they aren't very strong," Rachel explained loosely. Sometimes that was true. Sometimes if they ran it was to lure a hunter to where there were more wolves. Safety in numbers. It applied to both man and wolf. "And as you can see by the state of his obvious lifelessness that he is now in, he wasn't that dangerous and I got the job done."

"Still," he kicked at the body with the toe of his boot. "You never know," his eyes found Rachel's again before flashing to Brittany who was looking down at Rachel's arm with her lip caught between her teeth. "You never know."

"We weren't ambushed, Finn," she used Brittany to help her to her feet. Her stiff back ached as it straightened out. "We followed him. We had our target in mind."

Finn threw up his arms. "You don't get it do you?"

"Get what?"

His mouth opened then closed on his words. "Nothing," his lips flattened into a thin line and his hands dug deep into his pockets. Rachel knew he was playing around with the switchblade he always carried around.

"What Finn's trying to say is-"

"Leave it, Brittany," he cut her off. "Lets just burn the body and go home."

Finn pulled his truck around into the alley. Him and Brittany hoisted up the body, tossing him into the bed. They were quiet as they drove to the border where the forest stretched long and thick where nothing industrial could be built.

They dug out a space clear of branches and leaves and placed the body down. Finn poured gasoline onto it. The stench burned in Rachel's nose. Brittany covered hers, gasping out when the flames rose.

"Go back to the truck, Brittany," Rachel whispered. Nodding, she peeled her eyes away and hurried back to the truck where she laid down across the seats out of view.

Flames licked up, melting away flesh and charring bone into dust. Rachel and Finn covered up the burned dirt, erasing the activity that had gone on there though signs remained. Many bodies had been burned there. Many vial creatures had been put to death in the depths of these tress.

Rachel let out a sigh of relief as it was all done. Finn watched her. She turned to him seeing his jaw flex. "I was worried about you tonight," He muttered. "You just ran off. You could've been killed or worse…"

"I would kill myself if that ever happened and you know that." They both went rigid, glancing to where Brittany was now sitting up in the truck, eyes on them.

"That doesn't matter," he fumbled for words. "You can't keep going off by yourself. If Shelby finds out we killed a wolf in the safe district, she'll snitch to Sue and we'll be in trouble-"

"He started off across lines first," she cut him off. "We only did what it is we are instructed to do."

"I guess," he backed down. "But it's not going to be worth it if you go off by yourself and end up dead."

She stared up into his worried eyes. Finn had always been soft. Finn had always been the one who was too worried about her and what happened to her. He was always the one to play by the rules. It only made sense after the hunt when they were ten and his dad didn't come back.

Burt Hummel helped the Hudson's back onto their feet and soon enough him and Mrs. Hudson were married but they turned in their silvers and hid away their weapons. They were the first hunting families the clan lost. Only Finn kept on, living out the legacy of the father he had idolized higher than any other great man in history.

Many had been like them a while afterwards and left. The Berry's stayed strong and the Pierce's, though not as active as Rachel's parents, answered a call here and there if the news showed hints of a rouge wolf walking the outskirts of Lima. But death took many and many more left.

Finn replaced the box of matches into his pocket, following Rachel back to the truck.

Rachel slumped against the window, Brittany's head bouncing up and down on her shoulder as Finn drove over rocky terrain. She watched the trees go by with their leaf, scarce shadows reflecting off the window like they had done the night she was ten.

She could still recall the feelings she had just being in the woods, watching her dad's go off. Mrs. Pierce and Mrs. Hudson explained to them what was happening. The things that they needed to start to learn as they got older.

Rachel had hung on to every word: The signs of a werewolf. Always keep your guard up. Never track down a wolf without a partner. Never assume you're safe. Never go out without some sort of silver on you.

Rachel's hand shot up to the chain around her neck. The silver star felt smaller now that she was older and bigger. She had thought she lost it the night of the hunting party.

The wolves came on them out of nowhere and they had run. She tripped. The claw of a large, tawny wolf caught the chain ripping it off her neck. Someone had screamed – Brittany. An arm grabbed her and trees whizzed past her vision.

In the chaos she had found Finn who had taken her by the hand and dragged her into a car, pressing her head down to the carpet on the floor. Snarls and howls and gunshots raged above them. Rachel held her ears, crying until it was all done.

Brittany kept a hand on the middle of Rachel's back as they walked up the walkway to their apartment. Finn waited until they were inside before driving off to the car maintenance shop he lived in the loft above.

They quietly padded through the apartment. Rachel pulled away from Brittany to go to her room but she yanked her back at the fingers leading them into Brittany's.

Rachel hung back, watching Brittany rid of the dark black and leather outfit. Her eyes caught the jagged markings of teeth marks that lined where her shoulder blade met neck. They stood out from her skin white and pink and sick like acid had eaten away at her flesh. Rachel bristled.

Some hunters were lucky. Some of them died in the jaws of the things they hunted. Others weren't. Others were infected and they had to hand over whatever silver medallion they owned and were either banned or killed.

But then there were some like Brittany.

Her shirt fell down, covering the awful markings she had gotten that first night going out with the adults. Rachel hadn't even thought about Brittany when her dad came to the car she and Finn were hiding in.

He pulled her up into his chest and she clung onto his neck. Daddy was close by, limping with an arm slung over Burt Hummel's neck. When she saw Mr. Pierce racing over to his wife, she hadn't seen the tiny, limp body of Brittany on the ground.

Brittany wasn't a werewolf. Even if, Rachel doubted the Pierce's would've allow Sue to take away the silver charm bracelet she wore proudly on her wrist. Or take her life, or throw them out of the clan. They were too good to be wasted like that. On one hand, Brittany was lucky.

The bite hadn't been fatal. She was still alive. The bite hadn't been backed with enough of the lycanthrope virus to infect her completely. But as each year passed, the more wolf Brittany became. They kept it quiet from Sue. She was still one of the best hunters. She was still one of them.

Rachel gritted her teeth, arms lifting up over her head so Brittany could tug her shirt off. The fabric came off crackly from the dried blood across her back. Gentle hands turned her around and careful eyes examined her tattered skin.

"It's not too bad," Brittany said with a smile.

"It hurts that bad," groaned Rachel. Brittany smiled apologetically, pulling her into the bathroom.

Brittany sat her down on the toilet seat as the water in the tub ran a steaming hot. The hotter the water, the quicker the wounds healed even if it did leave the skin feeling blistered and raw.

"You really should be careful," Brittany said from behind her.

"I _know," _she cringed as Brittany dabbed at each tender cut with antibiotics after cleaning them out. "But, honestly, I had it all under control. If you and Finn would've been faster then I wouldn't have had to do it alone."

"You scared us," she muttered. She stood up, turning to face Brittany now in front of her. Brittany chewed her bottom lip as Rachel striped her pants off letting them fall into the pile with her other clothes.

"Thank you, Brittany. I'll be fine from here." She smiled, dismissing the other girl from the bathroom.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, pushing Brittany towards the door. "Could you possibly help me wrap my shoulder when I'm done?" She could feel the dull ache start to move down the entire length of her arm. She held it limp at her side.

Brittany grinned leaving Rachel to clean off.

She shut the door behind her, leaning back on the cool wood for a moment. The smells of bubble bath diffused through the air, beckoning Rachel to the waters. She could smell the blood on her skin and feel where her body had rubbed against the mutt and where his claws had scraped into her.

She pinched her eyes tight as she stepped into the scalding water. She leaned back against the wall, water up just under her neck. It burned her cuts from the soap Brittany had tossed in the water but it was meant to help rid them of any infection.

Rachel sighed, body resting comfortably in the water now. Things were different now.

She missed the days when she was twelve, eleven, thirteen and running alongside her dads. They started them young. The younger, the better they would be. The younger they started, the earlier the fear of the wolves would be diminished and the lust and desire to kill them developed stronger. Rachel embraced it all.

But it had started to fade.

Brittany roused from her light sleep, finding the ace bandages in her desk draw. Rachel sat on the edge of the bed as she wrapped it around her body.

"Thanks," She rolled her shoulder a bit. She'd have to take it easy for maybe a week.

Brittany grabbed hold of her hand, tugging slightly. "Stay with me?"

Rachel looked down into bright blue eyes. Brittany always got this way when one of them was hurt. She hated to leave their side, worry that some sort of infection would set in. But tonight was because Brittany was afraid she would lose one of the only people she still had in life.

Rachel allowed herself to smile. "Okay,"

They slid under the covers, Brittany's nose on Rachel's shoulder and her arm wrapped securely around hers. Rachel stared up at the ceiling, the ache in her body making it hard to fall asleep. The sounds of the night crept in soon enough bringing the chorus of howls with it.

There weren't enough active hunters to deal with them. Their haughty barks and joyful howls filled up the dead of night like mocking voices. Rachel tensed.

She'd silence as many of them as she could. She'd silence them like they had silenced her and Finn's dad's. Like they had put Sue's sister in the hospital and cursed Brittany to live day to day worrying if her skin would be taken over completely by furs.

She'd silence them all until the night was motionless with only the sweet chirp of crickets that echoed against the trees.

-/-/-/-

Rules had changed since the days of their parents. Back then, any running wolf was a target and they were killed or imprisoned in cells with bars coated in a fine layer of silver so it would burn each time they pressed hands or muzzles to them.

Rachel had only gone to the local wolf prison a few times when she was younger, hand in hand with her dad Hiram. It wasn't a big institute. Something small, like a holding jail Rachel saw in those old western movies her daddy loved to watch and she'd curl in his lap with a bottle of cream soda since she couldn't drink beer.

Mr. St. James by the first name Jeremy would be sitting at the front desk, legs folded up on the tabletop and hands holding up a book to his nose. Rachel could remember the smell of the place. Like wet dog, mixed with the musty smell of a high school boys locker room. The sounds were no better.

Wolves yelped in furs as their noses brushed the silver bars. Men in skins yelled for their freedom. Rachel didn't know how Jeremy St. James did it. But he did, sitting in his swivel chair, chewing on an orange and reading some book with too many words and not enough pictures for a twelve year old Rachel.

But rules had changed and some others - wolf activist - came into town and said that the treatment of werewolves in the Northern part of the country was inhumane. Because down in the south, a werewolf could walk into a bar and order drinks. Then whisk off pretty women into the woods until dawn broke and she'd come back a little worse for wear and he'd be glowing like he just returned from the full moon.

In much of the north, though, wolves weren't people. They might share the same flesh for a part of their lives, but animal sang in their veins stronger than any humane part of them. They were like lions in a zoo. They were fun to look at behind the fences and nice to take pictures of, but they belonged behind bars and away from the people.

But reporters came in and journalist wrote up stories forcing people like Sue to change things up.

Rachel pulled her car up in front of the old wolf prison. It had been expanded on to include Sue's office and a few others. It was still a jail, but the silver was taken off the bars and they weren't allowed to put any wolves to death there just for the hell of it. They couldn't even imprison one unless they broke the laws and attacked or killed a human or were caught in the wolf free districts. Districts like Lima, the one Sue was the head of.

Gravel crunched beneath her boots as she walked up to the prison – excuse her – _station._

Warm air whooshed out as she stepped inside. Taking his dad's place was Jesse St. James sitting at the front desk. Classical music played from a radio as he held his head low over documents and papers, pen scribbling signatures and eyes scanning fine print. The door banged shut behind her bringing Jesse's attention up to her.

He shut off the radio, looking up to her with a charming smile. "Hello, Rachel,"

"Good morning, Jesse," the facility looked smaller now.

Too small to house as many wolves as it used to. Then again, Rachel had never gone back to the cells back then. The noise had been what she based it off of. There were only six or seven holding pens but everyone knew each would be overcrowded at times. Harboring full packs of twenty plus men strong.

"What brings you by this lovely morning?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. He already knew. Jesse always knew. He just enjoyed taunting people. People like Finn who couldn't just keep his mouth shut and not give into Jesse's teasing. People like that werewolf named Darren that Jesse had held the tip of his blade to his throat, pressing it in more and more until he admitted where the rest of his gang was hiding.

If there was anything the St. James were known for it was their cold-blooded kills.

"I'm here to see Sue," she said anyway, humoring him. "I saw her truck parked in the front so I know she's in. I also know for a fact that you already knew why I am as well."

He just smiled broader, sitting back in his chair messing with the large, silver glistening ring on his finger.

It was a medallion, a symbol of who and what they were. All the hunters had one in some form or fashion made of pure silver and wielding the star.

Like Rachel had a necklace, Brittany had a charm bracelet dangling with many other things like ballet shoes and a tiny kitten, but on it hung the star shiner than all the rest. Finn had a watch, passed down to him from his father.

They marked a wolf hunter as a hunter and once they no longer had them, when they turned in their silvers or were stripped of them, no longer a hunter were they.

"She's in with Shelby," he told her.

So that's whose nice black car that belonged to. When Rachel had been made to live with Shelby after her dad was killed when she was sixteen, Shelby drove a light blue minivan.

Like she was a soccer mom always hauling around kids. But Shelby had no kids and the one she did have she had given to the Berry men. The things she snuck over lines and held up in her home like a foster care center filled up that hole Rachel hadn't been able to do for her.

Shelby's voice rose up from down the hall, bright and sheer against Sue's low rasp. Their voices were too muffled for Rachel to decipher what it was they were saying but she had a feeling it was about her and the wolf brutally murdered in safe territory

She could care less. Safe zones were like tiny little Utopias for werewolves. But Rachel had read about Utopias and from what she learned from Louis Lowry and George Orwell was that they didn't work.

The office door swung open, banging against the wall. Sue yelled that Shelby would pay for the damage if her wall or knob were scuffed. Shelby yanked her arms into her coat, executing a perfect storm out that mirrored Rachel's own tantrums almost down to a tee. She did a double take at Rachel standing against Jesse's desk.

"Rachel," she huffed, wrapping her scarf tightly around her neck. Her face was red and her lips were pulled tight.

"Shelby," just Shelby. Never mom. She had been and always would be just Shelby.

"How are you?" she asked like she wasn't just ranting about what happened the previous night.

"I'm doing okay," she looked anywhere but Shelby.

"Won't you come by for dinner sometime?" of course she wouldn't addresses the giant elephant in the room. That wasn't Shelby's style. She'd slip it in over dinners after school or trips to the supermarket picking the right kind of milk. "It's been a while since you've been by."

Five years was longer than a while, Rachel thought. As soon as Rachel turned eighteen she left Shelby's, pitching in money with Brittany from working for Sue over the years and got an apartment. She hadn't returned since.

"Maybe?" Shelby's eyes filled up warm and pleading.

Rachel eyed her closely. "As much as I appreciate your offer," they both knew she didn't. "I believe I'd have to decline your generous invitation. I am very busy and-"

"-I understand," Shelby cut her off.

"You're still here?" Sue's voice boomed down the hall.

Rachel locked eyes with her. Sue glared in her direction, finger pointing towards her office then went back inside. Rachel had about ten seconds to cut the crap with Mother Teresa of the Wolves and get her ass in her office.

"But if you change your mind," Shelby went on. The anger in her face had left. "You know where you can find me."

The heavy sincerity in Shelby's voice ticked something deep inside Rachel. Maybe because it had been so long since someone just asked her to do something so simple and easy like having dinner over talks. A lot of dinners were done out of tins, beside a fire charring the skin and bone of their recent kill.

She ducked her head, tucking a hair that slipped from behind her ear. "Maybe,"

"Berry!"

"A maybe is good enough for me," she turned to Jesse to discuss some things while Rachel trotted down the hall.

"Door," Sue said not even looking up from the journal she was writing in.

Rachel stood at the closed door, eyes looking around the office. She had only been down to the station a hand full of times. Most orders were phoned through Jesse. On occasion Sue would call her, Finn and Brittany down to check up on them.

The three would sit in a line in front of her desk waiting patiently for Sue to be finished jotting in her journal, having a phone call with the doctors and nurses about the state of her sister, or blending up a protein shake Brittany swore had wolf meat chopped up into it. Rachel doubted that one.

She placed her pen down carefully beside the now closed journal, peeling her glasses off her nose and folded them neatly. Her cold eyes finally looked up at Rachel. She didn't look upset but she didn't look pleased either. Even if, Rachel doubted she could completely tell. She could never read Sue all that well.

"Sit down," Rachel moved quickly, smoothing her skirt as she fell into the familiar chair. Sue made a show of leaning back in her chair, elbow propped up on the arm handle and chin rested on her knuckles.

Rachel waited.

"Do you know when the first hunters came about?" She started. Rachel felt the impulse to answer the question but held it down. You didn't answer Sue's question. They were never meant to be answered by anyone.

"The first ones started in Europe," Sue went on. "Well respected men if only second to the king but without them you're certain that half of the human race would bear the flaw in genetic code that we now so desperately try to rid our world of."

Sue shifted to the right in her chair putting her directly in front of Rachel. She kept her eyes squared on her, never letting them waver and never letting it appear that she lost interest or had tuned out. When Sue saw she was still with her, she went on.

"They built trust with the people. They promised the people safety. They promised the people that they wouldn't have to worry about waking up to their babies missing or their spouses or loved ones. They built trust and they were respected. They had rules," Rachel's chest deflated with an internal sigh. Sue's eyebrow kinked up slightly. "So tell me, Berry. Why is it that you're in here?"

Rachel waited a beat to see if it was her turn to speak. Sue said nothing. She took in a breath. "Shelby-"

"Wrong," Sue sat up. She rested folded hands on the desk in front of her. "You are in here because _you_ broke the rules. _You_ murdered in her district,"

Rachel fumed. "He started off in ours-"

"That's not what I said. I'll try again," she cleared her throat, speaking like she was talking to a five year old. "You murdered in her district."

"Yes,"

"I know how you young people are," Sue looked away from her. "You think you're big and bad and invincible and that killing wolves will avenge your dead loved ones and you'll feel better about yourselves. Though you may very well be right, acting like you're doing good by the people and breaking rules is unacceptable."

Rachel kept herself from rolling her eyes. They weren't that young and she was not trying to avenge anyone. Her fathers had died for a great cause. And so would she. "But you told me-

"Rules are rules," Sue held up a hand. "And I did permit you to break them but your sloppy activity has caused me to lose forty-five minutes of precious time that I could've been spending plotting my next course of revenge on those uglies that put my sister into a hospital. Instead, I was forced to listen to that woman complain about hunters on her side of the lines and killing _her _wolves." Rachel sighed, eyes falling down to her hands folded in her lap.

Allen County was broken up into different districts. Sue conducted the biggest one stretching all of Lima and it's neighboring towns from Bluffton to just grazing the outskirts and up to Elida. The other part of Elida against it belonged to the St. James who took over after Burt and Carole left the clan monitoring all of Delphos and ended at the edge of the west Allen County line.

At the south of Lima to the district border was where Shelby had weaseled herself in, coming up from the Deep South and starting up the movement that outlawed merciless killing of werewolves in Allen.

She fought for a place for lone wolves to stop by before running farther northwest, up through Canada, where true safe territory was in the tundra or booking it down south to sniff at the Alamo and sip out of the River Walk. She created a place where wolves that proved to be tame enough to live a life of a human could live there without fear of the silver blades and bullets.

Her argument: If they weren't a threat to the humans then they weren't necessary to be killed. The rules were set that only if a wolf was rogue, if they killed a citizen, bit anyone, or were seen as a threat or suspicious, that was the only time one could be killed.

But in Lima, they could shoot bullets at them as much as they wanted until they got out of their territory. If one ended up getting hit, so be it. Their fault.

But some slipped in. Some like that April Rhodes character that jumped from one house to another, cheating the system. Or even ones like The Puckerman's. The mother was human but her son had been bitten. Only the mother remained in Lima now. As for Noah Puckerman, he skipped over to where he was under full protection of Shelby. Though, her protection was hardly much.

"Now," Sue started again. "If I choose to believe your mother then I know that Julian Watts worked as a well trusted plumber. Lived in a modest house with his wife and daughter at the far edge of Shelby's district and has only been pulled over once for DUI." Rachel felt her body sink into the chair. "Though you and I both know that sporting teeth and tail at any rise of the moon is reason enough to be killed, what was yours?"

She took a long, shaky breath. "First of all, he was over the line and I very well know that Shelby is aware of Lima's laws. We told him he needed to leave but he ignored us. Then, Finn threatened him-"

"So," the drawer of Sue's desk snapped out. She licked her index finger, using it to retrieve a form. Her pen clicked, point resting on a line. "He was drunk off too much booze, didn't listen to your warning and attacked you and Brittany before running."

Rachel blinked at the forged story. "I suppose,"

"Then, in the eyes of everyone, he deserved what he got." Sue finished writing out the details on the report sheet.

Rachel had no other choice but to agree. "Correct," Sue stamped the form down at the bottom, thrusting it towards Rachel to sign off that it was fact. She scribbled her name on the line warily.

Sue snatched it from under her nose, stapling another sheet of paper to it and handed it to her. "Give this to St. James on the way out. He'll take care of this…mishap."

"Yes, ma'am," she hurried to get up, chair making too much noise.

"Do not," Sue's snarl stopped her at the threshold. "Do not let this happen again, understand?" She nodded. "We're about two slips short of the laws changing again. I can only fight it so long before Shelby starts dragging in private I's and rallies up enough of those flea bags to start picketing my station."

"Yes, ma'am," Rachel nodded tersely and left the office.

Jesse took the forms away from her grinning. "You're out in once piece. I can assume it went well?"

Rachel drew her lip in between her teeth, watching Jesse take the forms to a photocopier. It hummed as it printed out two more copies. "Does she always…"

"Lie?" He finished for her. She nodded. "That depends on the way you look at it,"

"I suppose it is all justified in the end,"

"It always is," He fell back into his chair, placing the original form into a folder and stuck it into a drawer. "I'll see you around, Rachel,"

"Goodbye, Jesse,"

-/-/-/-

"I'm not going in there," Rachel crossed her arms around her chest, nose turned up in defiance. The neon lights of the outskirts bar blazed above the car, lighting the windows up a cherry red.

Brittany flung the passenger side door open, tugging the flap of Rachel's jacket. "Please?"

She shook her head. "You can go in there and flirt with as many she wolves as you want, but I am going home."

"Please, please, please?"

"We really shouldn't," Rachel said turning to logic. "By going in there, we are then reduced to their friends and they will proceed even further in breaking the law and will become complacent whenever they see us coming. So no. I will not be going in there."

"But," Brittany's bottom lip poked out. "But I'm one of them too."

Rachel snapped her neck, eyes wide. "No you're not, Brittany. You are not one of them."

"I might be. I might be soon," The thought chilled Rachel's spine. Brittany's usually, daytime sky colored eyes were sparkling a hazy, glittering gray so clear and so light they almost had no color. Rachel blinked away from them. It was one of the few changes that had started to take over Brittany.

"You're not,"

"Rachel," she tugged her again knowing she had beaten Rachel through her guilt and she wasn't even a bit ashamed of herself. "No one will know who we are here."

"Very well," Brittany clapped her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "But take off your bracelet," she ordered, unclasping her necklace and hid it deep in her pocket. "One look at these and they'll know."

Brittany didn't waste a moment discarding her bracelet and stored it into one of the many zipping pockets of her coat. Brittany took hold of Rachel's hand, dragging her through the parking lot and into the bar.

It was a dingy place. A place that wasn't as nice as the bars in central Lima but not as sketchy as some of the ones she, Finn and Brittany had stormed in after a criminal. Still, she felt uncomfortable and out of place inside, surrounded by shape shifters without the safety of weapons on her sides.

Brittany weaved them through the crowd. Each body they past brought a pair of curious eyes on them. Some noses turned up and some eyes glared. Some of them knew who they were but none of them would deny the service of people who could kill them in a second.

Brittany let her hand go once they made it to the bar. She threw her legs haphazardly over a stool, nervously eyeing the company behind the high top and the few that dotted stools alongside them.

At the end of the bar, drying off a glass she saw Puck, leaning over the wood and talking low to a tanned skinned girl. Her lips moved quick and her eyes looked urgent. Puck nodded to her. Rachel caught his eye and he froze. The girl followed his line of sight to her. Rachel blinked away.

"Uh oh," Puck said coming over to the bar where she and Brittany sat. "I just got this place back in order after a fight the other night."

"Hello to you too, Noah," Rachel ticked, glaring up at him. "We're not here on business,"

"Yeah," Brittany slid close to her. She had thrown her scarf and jacket off to reveal her breezy, blue top that clung nicely to her skin. "We're here to have some fun."

"In your books, fun means turning my bar upside down and falsely accusing all my regulars."

"Relax, Puck," Brittany flashed a sweet smile up to him. "We're only here to have fun. Just fun."

His narrowed eyes found Rachel next to her. They had known Puck all through McKinley until mid fall semester senior year. He had been out of school for a while, dealing with all the grim details and repercussions of being bitten.

It was his own damn fault. He spent most of his time off in Shelby's district, bumping fists and slapping shoulders with the wolves. It was only time before he got too cocky and one of them turned on him.

An accident is what Puck said it was when Sue questioned him. Rachel and Finn had been at the station that day. The wolf's name was Calvin. He and Puck were buds and they were messing around. Sue did her best to warp the story but Puck held to it and with Shelby on his side,

Calvin was let go with a couple months jail time and Puck was granted his last couple months to stay at McKinley.

He and Finn had been somewhat of friends. That changed when Finn found out about what happened to him. Rachel wondered if they even talked now that so many years had past. The last she knew, Finn had given Puck one last fist bump at graduation and they went separate ways.

"Fine," he slammed two empty glasses onto the bar causing Rachel to jump. "But the first silver I see and I'm kicking you out."

"You can't do that," Rachel stated, chin titled up.

"You're on our turf now, sweets." Puck smirked. Rachel looked away from his elongated canines in disgust. "What can I get for you?" He made Brittany her drink and popped off the top of a beer for Rachel, pouring it into a glass. She sipped it, the froth at the top spreading on her lip.

She leaned over to Brittany, watching Puck saunter back over to the girl he had been talking with. "Why did you want to come here, exactly?"

Because Rachel was uncomfortable and the group of men against the back wall kept eyeing them. Their lean muscle could be seen from under their thin shirts. Rachel knew from experience it was only half of the power they held.

Her hand shot down to her side, touching only fabric. She felt naked without her gun. She felt naked not feeling the weight of the knives sheath that she usually wore around her left thigh.

"Jesse said the wolf bars are the best bars," Brittany stated simple. Her eyes bounded across the interior. Someone locked their light eyes with her blues. Brittany smiled.

"And you listened to him?"

"Well, yeah," she shrugged, "And he told me to keep an eye out for some guy Mr. Motta's been tracking so we couldn't really come here looking all scary and dangerous."

Rachel slapped her forehead with a hand. "And you couldn't tell me this before because?"

Her brow knitted together. "Because you're no fun when you get all serious." Rachel's jaw fell open. Puck dug into his pocket, slapping a notepad on the bar and jotted down something on the lines. He slid it towards the tanned girl while pointing at it. "Are you sure it wasn't a girl Jesse meant?"

"Yeah, why?"

Rachel jutted her chin towards the two. Dark, dark brown eyes met hers for a moment. Wolf. Rachel could tell just from the strange glimmer in those dark orbs too dark to even look brown.

She pocketed the slip of paper, rising from the bar and hurried out with a backwards glance to Brittany and Rachel before the door slammed shut.

Brittany moved then, flitting through the crowd, smiling at curious faces and twiddling her fingers to prying eyes. She scanned the faces of the bar nonchalantly, falling into the both with a trio of wolves near the front.

They stiffened in their seats but Brittany remained calm and bubbly as she started to speak with them.

"What're you really doing in here?"

"We already answered you,"

He motioned over to Brittany. "What's she up to then?"

"Just having small talk," he snorted. "Who was that girl you were talking to?"

"No one," he shrugged. "Just some girl."

Rachel slid her empty glass over to him for a refill. "No one? Don't give me a reason to search the place."

"No need,"

"Then who is she?"

"She's no one," beer filled to the top of the glass, running over the edge. Puck hurried to clean it up before sliding it back to Rachel. "Just some chick looking for a boyfriend or something."

"Likely," she took a drink.

"Believe me or not, that's the truth and I know you're not in here just for the hell of it." The towel whipped up, the tail almost hitting Rachel in the nose before it slapped over his shoulder. "So pay and get out before just you being here starts making the boys antsy."

Rachel smirked over the edge of her glass as she sipped. "Worried we might find something that shouldn't be here?"

"Worried that I'll lose business,"

"He's not here," Brittany sounded defeated as she came back.

The table she had been conversing at glanced over at them confused and irritated. One of them pointed a finger at Rachel. She read her name being said on his lips. The other two glared, ducking their heads and hiding their mouths from her to see.

Rachel sneered. Puck growled in the back of his throat. "You can't come in here like that without a warrant!"

"Who's going to stop us?" Rachel ignored the fury on Puck's face as she finished up the last of her drink. "Is that all? Can we go now?"

"We can go," Brittany snatched up her coat, pulling her arms through the holes.

Rachel found her necklace in her pocket and clasped it back around her neck. Puck fumed from where he stood behind the bar, a low growl in deep in his chest as they walked out.

The fear in the customer's eyes when they saw the charm was enough to satisfy Rachel for the night.


	3. Part II

**Part II**

She was running.

Quinn's golden eyes lit up as she turned around to see the fire blazing behind her. The sounds of the others, some in furs and skins, rose up with the crackling sounds of burning wood and the harsh shouts of the ones who had been the cause of the destruction.

Flames licked at the navy sky gone black with the rise of smoke. It raged through the wood, scorching trees instantly turning them into blazing, orange, gnarled things.

The wildlife scurried to find refuge. The sounds of sirens rang out in the distance. Someone – some idiot new to the pack that didn't know how dangerous it was – had called the fire department.

The pack knew better than to stick around. They had to flee. They weren't safe from humans just as much as they weren't from the fire. Though, many wolves would take the latter to kill them than the fleshy beings they were cursed to even look like half their lifetime.

The beat of heavy paws came up on her and she turned. Sleek and black, Santana came up to flank her side. Quinn darted her eyes around her fur, looking for injury in her fur but the darkness of her coat and the haze of smoke made it hard to tell.

Her tongue lolled out the side of her mouth, glad to see that Santana had made it out and she was okay. Okay was only loosely used. She was running, that hardly meant she was okay. The last she had seen of Santana, she was helping her Dr. Lopez get the young ones out of their houses and to safety.

Quinn had been there too, taking two kids that Sam had handed off to her. She told them to change and she told them to run, follow whatever pack member they could. They'd come back together later.

But her mother yanked her out of the house and commanded her to leave. She obeyed, begging Sam to come with her, but in the end she ended up running alone.

She sent a silent prayer up to the moon that he was okay, that her mother was okay and that the rest of the pack was okay.

Santana growled low in the back of her throat, nudging Quinn's hunches with her nose to speed back up. With a huff, she lunged as hard as her legs could take her and she ran.

They ran.

They ran and they ran, following the cool smells of Lake Ontario that trailed them to the left. The marks that distinguished their territories and hunting grounds were lost as they crossed over the state line where they stopped.

Santana trotted ahead of her before coming to a halt. Her nose was high in the air, sniffing out the area around them. The pads of Quinn's paws burned from running. Her tongue fell out the side of her mouth, panting in the mid winter air. It was dry and brittle. The fire would move fast if it wasn't put out quickly. Their homes would be nothing but soot and ash on the forest bed.

Santana grunted signaling they were okay before lying down on her side. It was then Quinn saw the way her fur was matted at her side, too clotted to be water. Quinn whimpered slightly and Santana turned her orange eyes from her. Quinn let her be. If it were serious, she'd demand she turn into her skins so it could be treated properly.

The night dragged on with nothing but the wind and the shift of the distant waters accompanying them. Quinn began to pace, her paws making a path in the dirt. Santana growled low at her, but she didn't rest.

They were her people - _her pack_. They were her mother and her Sam. They were her relatives tied together by the bond of the moon.

They were nowhere to be found.

Raising her muzzle into the air, Quinn let out a howl. Santana barked at her, but she let another one out, all gentle alto but begging a response. Another mixed in with hers, a little deeper and raspier and they sang.

-/-/-/-

Quinn woke up with the whimper of a howl on her lips. Her heart was heavy in her chest, weighing her into the bed. It had been long since that nightmare plagued her dreams once again.

Before, she'd wake up a sobbing mess, shaking and scared that the hunters were on them again and the fire was singeing her fur. A couple gasping pants later and the curled up body beside her told her she was safe. Now the nightmare, just a playback of near distant memories of when she saw her pack get torn apart, brought harsh pangs and unwavering longings in her wake.

She got up, hurrying to the window to relieve the room from its stuffy state. The moon was a sliver of pale white and gray high above the horizon. It glittered off her eyes, drawing the molten gold out of them the longer she stared. A breeze blew up with the scents of autumn. She sniffed. The firewood fragrance of a close winter were starting to settle in.

It had been four years since the fire. Four years since bullets sang out, clipping her mother's shoulder and leaving her father dead on the forest floor.

She had known about the wolf hunters since she was old enough to learn. Her dad had spent his life running from them, trying to keep his pack safe. His only solution was to pretend. Learn how to control instinct and become as much of human as they could without loosing sight of what they really were. The plan backfired on them all. Too much blood was shed that night and too many spirits lifted back up to the moon.

The scratch of a chair against wood sounded from downstairs followed by a groan from the bed. Santana turned over beneath the covers, curling into the warm sheets that Quinn had left behind.

"Q?" She called out groggily when her hand didn't find the body that was supposed to be beside her.

"I'm here," she said into the darkness of the room. Dark eyes opened to look at her for a moment. Quinn smiled and Santana shut them again going back into slumber.

They had been running for years but not like they had been doing for the past few months. They lived a life of running. It was the only sure way that they stayed alive. Jumping from place to place, only staying for no more than a couple months to weeks.

Hearing about safe territory came as both a shock and a relief.

She was getting sick of it, this constant state of fear. To venture farther south was their only salvation, but the southern wolves were ruthless, taking advantage of their freedom. Believe it or not, more of them saw death from taking it too far than the ones who ran up in the Appalachian Mountains and along the Great Lakes.

But when it all boiled down, there was no place safe for a werewolf. Not in the past and not now. Only death served as complete safety, and though it might present the rest that she so desperately longed for, Quinn wasn't ready to give up her life.

This…this safe district was what a wolf named Julian told her and Santana about. He was on his way back into town with new plumbing supplies thrown in the back of his giant pick up when he saw them running a bit too close to the road.

She and Santana slipped into the tiny backseat, shivering under a small fleece he had on the carpet, and prayed he wasn't going to turn them in. He gave them a to-go box of leftovers he wasn't going to eat and told them they had to split once they made it into the Allen County line.

"They see too many of us together and we're all dead," he had warned, handing Quinn a flat, half gone bottle of soda for them to drink.

Quinn thanked him kindly, letting him go off to do the work he had to take care of in Lima, clutching a drawn up map of where they needed to go to find a lady named Shelby Corcoran. Apparently she could help them. Apparently she was one of the only trustworthy people they could find from east coast New Jersey to well past Illinois into Iowa.

Hearing about Julian's death – his murder – had shaken Quinn to angry tears. He had only driven them a couple miles and given them not enough food to cease the awful churn in their stomachs but he had been nice.

Quinn drew the window shut, goosebumps now rising on her skin from the cold air. She left Santana to sleep and headed down the hall and skipped down the stairs.

Shelby was sitting in the living room, legs crossed on the couch with papers fanned out in front of her on the coffee table. She picked up a newspaper, lips pursing and head shaking at the article she was reading. Quinn padded across the carpet, falling into the recliner and pulling her legs up beneath her.

Shelby jumped when she finally saw her. "Oh! Quinn," she sat the paper down exchanging it for a mug of steaming tea. "You startled me. I'm not use to having people in the house that much anymore. Is everything alright?"

_People._

Shelby had called them people. Not mutts, not dirty wolves, and not lycanthropes. Quinn hated that one in particular. It may be what they were, but it made them sound like research studies. Like they were things that belonged on a table in a laboratory, hands and feet pinned down and a scalpel dissecting their tissue.

"Just restless," she said, tugging the sleeves of her shirt down so they covered her hands. She and Santana had been going long in only their furs. It was nice to be back in skins but Quinn forgot how the air affected the fragile skin and how certain words and looks drew the color red into her cheeks.

She jutted her chin over to the newspaper. "Is that about Julian?"

Shelby nodded, anger flashing across her face. "They claim that he attacked them because he was drunk. I know for a fact Julian only drank under supervision and never a drop enough to put him at risk of getting sent to prison."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing," the paper slid across the coffee table to the end where it draped of the edge. "There's nothing I can do. There were no eye witnesses and Sue will fight to the grave that it's true."

"But it's not true,"

She smirked. "You of all people should know how unfair the law is to wolves." Quinn's insides warmed up despite herself.

She hadn't been too sure about Shelby when they showed up on her doorstep, wearing clothes that had only been scrubbed off in a river and still stunk of algae and rust. Shelby looked too good to be true. She opened her door completely and invited the two werewolves in like they were distant relatives she had been waiting to come in for the holidays.

"I say we run before she turns us in," Santana had hissed when Shelby left to cook them up something. Quinn was with her on it.

There weren't people like Shelby in the world. Not ones that heated them up turkey and mashed potatoes like it was freaking thanksgiving then offered them a fresh set of clothes while theirs had a proper wash. And there weren't people who said they had a spare room upstairs they could crash in until they figured out what they were going to do or going to go.

Neither Quinn nor Santana got much sleep that night. They took turns keeping watch, hearts thudding and muscles tense ready to attack the first hunter or first gleam of a silver blade they saw come through the door.

But they never came and the eggs, toast and bacon Shelby had for them the next morning had Quinn sold with drooling chops and an embarrassingly ravenous appetite.

That was three weeks ago.

"How did you get this?" Quinn asked. "How is there even one safe place for wolves here?"

"Many court trials and a lot of signatures," she laughed like it had been a fun little walk in the park. "Civil rights shouldn't apply only to race. Not all wolves are threats. People are just afraid of things they don't understand."

"You're not," Quinn muttered. It took a few days before she realized Shelby wasn't waiting for the right moment to slaughter them or hand them over to the hunters Shelby fought so hard against.

"My great grandfather was a werewolf. He served in the First World War. No one knew what he was at the time." She eyed the few picture frames propped on a shelf across the way. "I guess you can say I have an understanding."

"But you're- you're human," Quinn narrowed her eyes. She was sure of it. Even if Shelby's house had the lingering musk of a wolf and she sometimes smelled like nightfall and the woody perfume of an array of plants, she was sure of it.

Shelby laughed, tip of her mug at her lips as she drank. "His daughter married a human and so on so it didn't reach me. It was his one wish before he died. He didn't want his children to live through the same brutality that he had to."

Quinn nodded, examining the pictures. The black and white one of a man in uniform she figured had been her great grandfather. With it were pictures of Shelby and her parents along with a man a few years younger than Shelby that must've been her brother.

There were a few of Shelby and her family, but one caught Quinn's attention the most. It was a candid of a girl in graduation robes, fake smile plastered on while Shelby held her close with an arm slung around her shoulder.

She looked just like Shelby. Same chestnut hair, same broad smile -even if it were forced - and same bright, brown eyes that were warm like hot chocolate and honey.

Her daughter was the only thing Quinn could come up with. But with the weeks of living with her, not once had she seen the girl and not once had Shelby mentioned who the nameless girl in the frame was.

"My hope for this place," Shelby started again, drawing Quinn's attention back to her. "Is that the people can see that there is nothing wrong with you and that maybe others will catch on. But with fake stories like Julian's…" she trailed off.

Shelby had known him personally. She had fought for him and his family to get a house. She had helped his wife plan out memorial arrangements since there wasn't a body to be buried. But then again…wolves weren't allowed to get buried in this place.

"Would you like some tea?"

"Sure," Quinn nodded. The spice of passion tea had been wafting all around the house making her stomach growl and mouth water.

Shelby got up and headed for the kitchen. The clink of glasses sounded soon after she left.

"Santana and I," Quinn said from the living room. "We haven't decided what we're doing. We," tucking a strand of short blonde hair behind her ear, she reached up taking the mug from Shelby. It had little gold stars all over it. "We still don't know where Sam is and if he hears about this place he might come around."

"Sam's the one who ran?"

She nodded, wincing at the scalding liquid going down her throat. "He was trying to protect us. That's the only reason why we're still on the move. It was an accident when he killed the officer."

"I know, I know. There's no need to convince me," and in her tone Quinn felt like she honestly didn't have to. "But I'm afraid even if Sam comes here or not, he won't be safe. Once you kill a human, especially an officer-"

"I don't care. If he comes back, then we'll leave. We'll go farther west. Maybe even find some of the Tundra packs far up north." She stopped herself noticing how frantic her voice was becoming. "I- We just…we can't lose any one else."

"I understand," big brown eyes met teary hazel. Her glass clinked into the ceramic coaster on the table, arm reaching out towards Quinn. "Come here," Shelby scooted on the couch, opening a place for Quinn to fall into the cushion beside her.

She brushed a stray tear from her cheek. "It was just the three of us after the fire,"

Sam had found them a few weeks later having followed their scent. He joined in, serving as better protection than Santana's fiery attitude and Quinn's calculating intelligence.

They spent the first couple months looking for other pack members. They found a few but most of them had scattered, going into permanent hiding, stealing identities and attempting to live amongst the humans.

Quinn's mom was too sick to run anymore and her dad was dead. Sam's family was missing and Santana had been an orphaned half-breed since she was two. They had taken her in, treating her like she was one of their own pack pups.

They made camp one night deep in the woods. They thought they were deep enough but some police officer had seen them trespassing into what had been a campground and when he witnessed Quinn shifting back onto two legs after scouting the territory as safe. He had radioed for back up and came for them.

Sam was only trying to protect them. He told her and Santana to run while he held the officer off and would find them again. But Sam's paw was too heavy and the officer's neck was such a brittle thing.

He left them to keep them safe because even if the bounty were just on his head, all three would be taken for guilty.

Quinn sniffed, her tear ducts flowing not use to shedding tears for so long. She hadn't intended on spilling anything to Shelby.

They had agreed to keep the past to themselves and to keep Sam's secret even quieter kept. But there was something in Shelby's warm, chocolate eyes and something trusting in the way she pulled Quinn into her like she were eight and needed a mother's comfort that let it all out.

"Listen," her head ducked down trying to find Quinn's eyes. She didn't go on until Quinn looked into them. "If he enters any of the local districts, I will do the best I can to clear his name and maybe even get the three of you to a safe place but I can't assure you anything. Not at this point."

"Thank you," she blinked the last few tears out of her eyes, looking up at Shelby through damp lashes. "Thank you,"

"For now, you'll stay here." She promised, cradling Quinn's head against her chest. "You'll be safe here."

"Thank you,"

-/-/-/-

They had jobs.

Shelby hired them as clerks at the music store she head managed at. Quinn liked it, though she spent much of her time in the quiet section, headphones over her ears listening to old, vinyls. It reminded her of the ones her mom used to put on while she danced with her feet on her dad's toes and he'd sweep her across the living room floor.

Tina had to get onto her more times in one day than she had to snap at kids too small to play the guitars and would knock half the racks down. After a while, she was assigned to a register along with Santana, but Quinn always wondered back into the records when days were slow.

Santana peeked her head around a shelf coming up to her. Quinn tugged the headphones off. "What're you doing?" Santana hissed.

"Nothing,"

"Stop it," She lifted the headphones off Quinn's shoulders, placing them back on the hook. "You're going to get us fired."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Nice to see you're finally taking this job seriously,"

"Unlike you. Shelby might be nice, but she can still fire us then what?"

"We work someplace else?"

Santana snorted, rolling her eyes. "Like we trust any other human in this damn place. I don't care how safe she says it is here. I still call that shit." A woman down the way listening to _Big Spender _a little too loud shot them a look.

Quinn smiled apologetically to her. "Be quiet. And watch your language."

"_Be quiet. Watch your language."_ She mocked. Quinn punched her lightly in the shoulder.

"What do you want?" She gave a look over her shoulder. The woman had turned up the volume even louder. Even so, Santana's voice dropped low enough only for their keen ears to pick up.

"I found someone who I think can help with finding Sam."

"What?" She almost dropped the record she was taking off the player. "Who?"

"He works at that bar on the edge of the line."

Quinn's jaw dropped. "You went to a bar?"

Santana gave her a blank look. "When's the last time we had some fun, huh? Let me live a little."

Quinn sighed, picking up a misplaced record from the F's and put it with the H's. "What if someone recognizes our faces and we get turned in?"

"I'm sorry," Santana's face fell into false offense, hand pressing into her chest. "But I was doing us a favor and the only person who saw our faces has a cracked neck and is lying six feet under with false pretense of being a heroic officer of the force."

She rolled her eyes, "Whatever, just, who are they and what makes you think you can trust them?"

"His name is Puck and he's one of us." Quinn's face dropped. Santana hurried to speak the rest. "He sees a lot of wolves pass through and he said he'd keep an eye out if he sees him or if the name turns up in underground gossip."

"And what are you basing trust on? Because being one of us doesn't insure that in the least."

Not if you were a werewolf forced to work along side the hunters. They were made to wear leashes and collars and muzzles. Only trusted out when there were wolves to be killed. Quinn shivered. She couldn't imagine killing her own kind. And the looks in their eyes were so sad and sorry for what they had to do. It was wrong. So very, very wrong.

"He said he hears stuff, alright? Not like we've had many people to trust before. I took a chance. And didn't Shelby say we're safe with her?"

That promise still burned in Quinn's ears just like her body had burned against hers as she held her until she stopped crying. Quinn was happy Santana hadn't decided that moment to come down for a glass of water. She would've teased Quinn about turning in her free running to live the luxury life of an oversized Pomeranian.

"Still,"

"Stop. I know what you're going to say and, yes, I thought about that. But we need to start taking chances or we're never going to find him or any of the others or get out of here if we don't."

"So we're still leaving then?" She asked, straightening some of the other albums making it look like they were working. "Once we find Sam, we're going?"

"Yeah?" Santana tilted her head, hands finding her hips. "Oh no. Oh hell. You're not thinking about staying with Shelby are you? Quinn, we're almost twenty-two years-"

"Would you shut up?" She slapped a hand over her mouth. A man passed by them at the end of the aisle. Quinn knew she'd need to get back to work soon. "I'm only looking at our options."

"When did staying here become one of them?"

"When we found out we didn't have to scrub with freaking maple leaves every night!"

Santana chewed her bottom lip, uneasiness warping her expression. "We can't, Q. We can't stay here." Her voice dropped even more "Not if Sam…"

"Yeah but," her stomach dropped, heart conflicted. "But what if he's- what if we never find him?"

Santana stayed quiet for a moment. The last thing they wanted to think was that they were the last of them. That they had lost another. That now it was just the two of them, fighting a world that didn't want anything to do with what they were.

"You're the brains," she dismissed the topic from going any deeper than that. "You figure it out."

"Don't I always?"

"Who had the bright idea of going into Cincinnati and getting half the squad set on our tails?"

Quinn tweaked up her eyebrow. "Who found us Shelby?"

"Julian," she fired off. "Now he's dead."

"Touché,"

Santana ruffled the top of her head. Quinn smacked her hand away only to get her neck caught in a chokehold under Santana's arm and between her body. She shoved against her side, poking at her with an elongated claw in the ribs.

Someone cleared their throat. "Excuse me," they both froze, looking towards the end of the aisle where a petite girl stood.

Quinn blinked a few times, the face of the girl registering too close to Shelby's herself and a perfect match to the girl she had seen in the pictures. She glanced to Santana to see if she saw it too. But Santana's expression was something more of vague fear and apprehension.

"Sorry," Quinn spoke up since Santana obviously wasn't. "May I help you with something?"

"Is Shelby Corcoran in?" she asked, dragging her finger across the shelf of records.

Quinn cocked an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure she is," she finally answered. "Is there something wrong? Anything I can help with?"

"No," she picked up a record. Something jazz that Quinn hadn't yet gotten to listen to. "I just need to speak with her."

"I'll go and get her for you." Santana chanced a glance at her out the corner of her eye. It was a warning glance. Quinn cocked her eyebrow not understanding.

"I'll come with you," her mocha eyes whipped up to Santana. Quinn saw her back go rigid. If she were changed, the line of fur down her back would be spiked. "I'll come with you,"

"You're not allowed-"

"I'm sure it'll be fine," she flashed her eyes up to Santana once more with a look of recognition. "She's expecting me anyway,"

"Oh," Quinn knew it was a lie. Shelby would've told her staff before hand. "Okay then," Quinn shrugged. "She's in the back. I'll take you,"

"Thank you," she smiled brightly, too bright teeth almost blinding under the florescent lights. Quinn brushed past Santana, touching the skin of her elbow to calm her down. Dark eyes locked with hers and Santana sneered, canines showing. "Is everything alright?" The girl beckoned over.

Quinn snapped back to her. "Yes, sorry. The back is this way." She didn't miss the soft warning growl Santana gave her before slipping away.

_Employee's Only_ was written in uneven black sharpie above the door. Quinn pushed the door open leading them through. Laughter chorused from the break room all loud and raucous. She saw Tina inside, giggling behind her hand over a tuna sandwich in front of a Mercedes Jones who gave voice lessons in one of the practice rooms every Tuesday and Thursday.

Shelby's door was closed when they got to it. Quinn knocked softly. Shelby's low voice ended from speaking to someone before she called out,

"Come in," Quinn turned the knob. Inside Shelby sat behind her scattered desk in front of a girl with brown blonde hair and huge, brown eyes. A resume sat on a cleared out space between them.

"Quinn," Shelby smiled. "What is it?"

"Someone's here to-"

"-Rachel?" Shelby's eyes went surprised, mouth going slightly agape. The girl sitting in front of her whipped around quick, eyeing Rachel. Quinn didn't know why the girl looked so frightened or why Rachel was confused to see her sitting there.

Shelby's voice broke the odd exchange. "Rachel, what are you doing here?"

"I've come to talk to you," she said simply, drawing her eyes up from the applicant. "About…a few things. If you're not busy, of course, I know you do have a store to run."

"Oh, no, no. We were just finishing up here." Shelby hurried to say. She stood up, hand extended to the girl. "Thank you for coming in, Sugar. You'll hear from me in a few days if you've got the job."

"Thank you. I'll be waiting for it," she took Shelby's hand. The furrow in Shelby's brow gave away that she had squeezed it a little to hard. She dropped it and skipped out, brushing Quinn's shoulder on the way.

Rachel sidestepped past Quinn, falling into the chair Sugar had just occupied. Shelby stared down at her, slightly taken aback and the twitch of a smile wanting to come onto her lips.

"So…" Shelby started, peering up at her.

"Oh, sorry. I'll go," Quinn stuttered backing out of the room. Just before she could go, Rachel peered over her shoulder at her. Just under her chin, Quinn saw the silver pentagram hanging from her neck. She glared, closing the door quick on Rachel's taunting smirk.

"She's a hunter!" Santana snarled once she made it back into the store.

"I know," she hissed lowly, taking the box of woodwind reeds Santana had been carrying. She hadn't been expecting that.

She followed on her heels to the shelves. "She was at the bar the other night."

"What?"

"What the hell are we going to do? What if she knows about Sam?" The box cutter whizzed through the tape so the flaps of the box popped open. "The way she kept looking at me that night-"

"We play it cool," Quinn said. "Trust Shelby on this one."

"Trust Shelby? Really? Why?"

"Because," she turned to face Santana, "I think that's her daughter."


	4. Part III

**Part III**

Rachel stared down at the post-it in her hand. Shelby's number glared up at her with a cheerful little 'call me when you're ready' written just under it. Because a trip to her office in the guise of discussing boundary lines once again and explaining the importance of Shelby not trying to fight against the contorted story wasn't enough for Shelby.

"I wish you'd come by for dinner," Shelby had said, frustrated with the business Sue had obviously sent Rachel to take care of. "We can work things out. Start over,"

Rachel slipped her phone out of her pocket, punching in the numbers to save in her contacts. It had been so long since Shelby held place in her contact list. It didn't hurt to have it once again.

"Wrench please," Finn's arm stuck out from beneath the car. Rachel quickly tucked away her phone, leaning over to hand Finn the tool.

She sat back in one of the crappy plastic chairs in the maintenance shop that rocked each time she moved around in it. "Be careful under there," she warned.

"Yeah, right," Finn laughed.

In the days Kurt was still with them, Hummel's Tire and Lube was the place they'd hang out most of their day. Though Burt would have to shoo them off after a while because the mechanics were distracted by Brittany's attempt to be helpful and scrub the windows of the cars that were finished. Why she thought doing it in her bikini would be a good idea was beyond Rachel. But it did bring in customers.

Still, it was where they found themselves hanging around with greasy pizza bought by the assistant manager for the boys and a six-pack of sodas Kurt snatched from the employee fridge in the back. They'd sit around, wearing the blacks of hunter's gear while Finn worked on cars and Brittany handed him the wrong tools on purpose until he snapped and she flitted away.

Of course that was during the time when Rachel had a not so secret crush on Finn, which was probably most of the reason she stuck around all the oils and the smells and put up with her diet consisting mostly of the cheap salads she had the assistant order her from the place he got pizza.

"I know he's one hot piece of ass, but do us all a favor and close your mouth. You're slobbering all over my suede's." Kurt would taunt her. She'd shush him, blushing like the cherry air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror of a suburban.

Rachel felt her cheeks run hot at the memory, handing Finn another tool he called for. She quickly slid off the grin and sat back in the chair. It had taken her a little too late to realize Finn and all his worry was because of his feelings for her.

But they had tried that once and it didn't work out. Off and on through high school they would have something of a relationship. Back when Kurt had left them for Dalton, getting as far away from Lima and Sue as he could. Back in senior year when they were juggling school and hunting and the struggles of figuring out what their futures held.

Whatever dreams they had were wasted. A hunter's life revolved only around that itself.

"So what're you doing here?" Finn's voice came up muffled by the vehicle.

"I came to visit,"

"But you, like never come down here anymore,"

"I figured I should," Rachel said sheepishly. It was the farthest place from the apartment and away from Sue. "Has Kurt been by?"

"No," Finn pulled himself from beneath the car. Oil coated his hands and there was a black smudge on the side of his face and all over his white shirt. "He's called a few times."

"Did you talk to him?"

Finn shook his head. He pushed off the ground, picking up a towel to clean his hands. "Just Burt," he shrugged, indifferently but Rachel could tell it upset him. It upset her too. "He's been doing alright from what I've heard."

Rachel smiled. She liked Finn and she liked Brittany but Kurt was the one she was able to gush about Barbara Streisand and _Cats _to. Because times with Kurt were times when Rachel would forget that she was a hunter and risking her life every night she went out under the moon.

Kurt was the reminder of when she was younger and dreamed of Broadway. Before she was given silver. Before protecting the people she loved was more important to her than performing on a stage.

"I just wish he'd come back, you know?" said Finn, "Or would visit. He just sort of left,"

Rachel fell into the small kitchen table in Finn's loft. He ran his hand under the tap, scrubbing with a yellow sponge and soap to get the rest of the oil and grime off his palms. Rachel started a new text message on her phone.

When Burt and Carole left the clan, Kurt stayed. It took weeks of convincing and Sue's clever tongue to pull him back in, but he did. But everyday, Rachel could tell he hated it. He'd keep watch most of the time, making sure they were safe to go out and call a signal when they weren't.

Finn showed up at school one day, red with anger and slamming his truck door. It wasn't until lunch when he finally cooled down when he told her and Brittany that Kurt transferred schools.

"I don't want to talk about it," was all Kurt would say when they asked him about it.

With graduation, he skipped on out of town. Kurt's silver belt buckle sat on a shelf in Finn's room. Some days, Rachel would catch Finn polishing it just like Kurt had spent hours doing so it shined.

"I saw Sugar," Rachel said, hitting the send button.

"Sugar Motta?"

"I was at Shelby's music store the other day and she had just finished doing an interview for a position."

His brow tugged in. "Why were you at Shelby's store?"

"I needed to speak with her about a few things."

"Like what?" Finn fell into the chair opposite her. He eyed her and she dismissed him with a smile. Her phone shivered in the pocket of her coat. Rachel quickly retrieved it reading off the reply from Shelby before punching in her own with a confirmation of the time.

"I'm having dinner with her tonight," at promptly six o'clock.

"That's good, Rach," he said all too gleeful. "I really think you should give her another chance." Rachel nodded silently. Finn had been saying that since her freshmen year when Shelby made contact with her, breaking the rule of closed adoption because,

"Someone was bound to dig up my past sooner or later," Shelby had said.

Rachel had kept a tightly closed mouth and a blank face trying to ignore the sting of those words. She had wanted her mother to reveal herself because she wanted to know the daughter she had given up. Not because the Lima reporters were trying their best to find something faulty with Shelby to run her and her safe district out of town.

So it wasn't a sudden shock when a journalist came to her doorstep, questioning Rachel on how she felt about having a mother who countered everything she lived her life for. Rachel shut the door on all their faces and dismissed Shelby as being nothing more than a reason she was even given life.

"Why do you think Sugar is back?" Rachel brought the conversation back around.

He shrugged. "Maybe she needs a job,"

"Here?"

"It's not like we have anything to worry about with her. She was never a hunter." Rachel was never sure what happened to Sugar Motta.

The memories Rachel had of her was little Sugar sitting on the bumper of her dad's car with her elbows propped on her knees and chin resting on the heels of her hands. She always looked frightened, Rachel remembered. Sometimes Brittany would bounce over to her and Rachel would hear them laugh a little but nothing more.

Her jealousy for the silent girl waned after some time because Sugar didn't do anything. She kept to herself, watching Rachel, Brittany, Finn and Kurt like they were alien to her and just as terrifying as the wolves.

It was a week after Leroy passed from a fatal wound after a raid when Sugar actually spoke to Rachel.

Mr. Motta came by a couple hours before Sue was schedule to show to help with planning out the service and arrangements and to give her condolences. Rachel had sat up on the stairs, peeking through the banister as her dad pulled the door opened, looking the most filled with life Rachel had seen him since the day his husband took his last breath.

Hiram shook Mr. Motta's hand and ushered him inside. Sugar was right on his heels, big eyes blinking at the house. She caught sight of Rachel watching them and frowned. Rachel stood up and walked back to her room.

A few minutes later someone was knocking on her doorframe.

"I'm sorry about your dad," Sugar had said. She walked over to where Rachel was staring out the window. "I know how it is. My mom died too, you know?"

She knew. Rachel had been at that funeral even though she was told Mrs. Motta had died from some fatal illness. She had been too young to know about the hunters, but Sugar knew about it all along. Some days Rachel wondered how Sugar slept at night with always knowing.

Or maybe she didn't sleep. The bags under her eyes were telltale signs of nightmares just like the ones Rachel had and would never stop having.

"Does it ever stop hurting?" Rachel had asked, because the hallow feeling in her chest was unbearable and the cold place on her forehead where Leroy use to kiss her goodnight was frigid.

Sugar nodded hesitantly. "After that one hunt, it felt better." That one night was the night she had almost lost Leroy the first time. When Brittany was bitten and when the first nightmares started to trickle into Rachel's nights.

Mr. Motta beckoned for his daughter from downstairs and Rachel felt her hand being lifted and something hard being shoved into it. When she opened her hand, she held Leroy's ring. Mr. Motta must've had it, planning on giving it to Hiram but Sugar had snagged it.

"Thank you," Rachel called but Sugar was already gone and the Motta's were driving away.

"I suppose," Rachel kept herself from meeting Finn's curious gaze. She may have never been a hunter, but Sugar still knew everything. And Sugar was never seen without having her father by her side. "I should go,"

"I'll walk you out," Finn hurried up from his seat, holding Rachel's coat so she could slip her arms easily into it.

"Thank you, Finn,"

"Hey," he stopped her at the door. "I'm really glad you're talking to your mom again."

"Her name is Shelby," Rachel corrected. "And we are hardly on speaking terms. This is just dinner."

He smiled, leaning against the doorframe and waving as she skipped down the stairs. "I'm sure it is,"

-/-/-/-

The amount of black in her closet was almost a shock to Rachel. When she had been five, pinks and greens and bright reds use to take up a multitude of everything she owned. It was almost gloomy, the state of her closet. It reflected so perfectly what her life had become. Just days of running through shadows of trees bringing death like the Grim Reaper himself.

"Aren't you just going to your mom's?" Brittany asked from where she lay in the center of Rachel's bed, fingers punching away a text on her phone.

Rachel sighed at the skirt and sweater she was wearing. Brittany was right. She was just going to her mom's, even if Rachel told her more than once not to refer to Shelby as such.

"I want to make a good impression," she said, tugging the sweater off and threw it onto the bed. Rachel hurried back into her closet, pushing hangers from one side to the other, eyes scanning.

"Good impression?" Brittany echoed. There was honestly no point. She was treating dinner with Shelby the same way she had treated dates at Breadstix with Finn when they tried to have a relationship. "You're not trying to date your mom are you?"

"Ugh, Brittany," she came back out, pulling on a dress that brushed just above her knees. "And her name is Shelby."

Brittany nodded, chewing on her pinkie nail and typing a text with one hand. "But she's your mom,"

"She gave birth to me," she did a spin, checking how the fabric fit around her body. Off a rack on the closet door she whipped off a scarf and slipped on her jacket. "That doesn't make her my mother."

Brittany's eyebrow cocked. "I don't get it," Rachel only smiled, snatching up her keys. The clock on her nightstand told her she needed to leave in less than a minute to be on time. Even for Shelby, Rachel would be on time.

"I'll be back promptly at ten. If anything happens you can call me."

"Are we expecting anything to happen?"

"No, but if,"

Brittany's grin was sly as Rachel pulled her hair out of the collar of her coat. "You're just trying to get out of dinner with your mom."

"No," Rachel rolled her eyes, not even trying to correct her again. It hadn't worked through junior and senior year. No point in trying so hard now. "Just in case," She waved her cellphone in the air before hurrying out of the apartment and into the cold.

Nostalgia didn't escape Rachel as she drove down Shelby's street. She hadn't spent much of her time outdoors when she lived with her. Those days had been for her fathers who taught her how to ride without training wheels then the basics of how to drive a stick shift.

Time with Shelby was spent as far away from the house as possible. She couldn't count how many evenings she spent at Hummel's Tire and Lube with Kurt and Finn or how many days consecutively she spent at the Pierce's. She practically lived with Brittany her junior and senior years of high school, only returning to Shelby's when she felt she had over stayed her welcome or her bag of clothes needed to be changed out.

The window of her room could be seen as she pulled up to the curb. Rachel stared up at it. The same dark curtains draped over the large window. She had spent nights sitting at that window, book in hand and wishing on every star possibly for her dads to come back and take her away because she couldn't stand it there. The howls of night, the aura of wolf lingering in the house, the visitors that looked at Rachel with pure hatred and disgust…

There were few nights she didn't cry herself to sleep. But most brought puffy eyes in the morning and low spirits until she was off to school and Brittany yanked her into a rib crushing hug and kissed her forehead. Just like that, everything seemed right in the world once again.

Her knuckles wrapped at the door. Rachel looked back up at her room window, brow furrowing when she thought she saw the curtains flap just briefly as if caught by the wind.

Shelby answered with a wide smile. "Rachel," she looked her over, grin pulling back even more. Rachel forced on a bigger smile, guilty of not having the same excitement.

"Come in," Shelby stepped back, opening the door completely for her. "Dinner's almost ready." Rachel pulled off her coat and scarf, eyes scanning the house. Everything looked the same. Shelby had hardly changed a thing for how many years had gone by.

It was the same as it was a week after graduation and Rachel finally came home, packing her things and not giving Shelby the chance to speak and convince her to stay. She was in and out in twenty minutes flat, jumping into Brittany's car and left without as much of a backwards glance.

Her vow then was to never come back. She hadn't understood why she couldn't just stay at her own house and live alone. But the law wouldn't let her and since Shelby was written in tiny print on all documents, she had to. It didn't stop her from sneaking over to her old house that a nice, sweet family called the Rutherford's had moved into.

Some days Mrs. Rutherford let her come inside, give her a tall glass of lemonade and listen to stories about her dads and the life they lived.

Their son Matt would sometimes come sit down next to her on the porch, pushing a tissue into her hand as tears dripped from her eyes. They hardly spoke three words to each other, but his presence was somewhat of a comfort. Like Leroy had been when she was six.

Every night her dad's went out, Rachel promised herself she wouldn't fall asleep until they came back. But she'd fail, and she'd wake up in the middle of the night, chest heaving, scared and disoriented until her eyes would lock on her daddy sitting on the window seat.

"Daddy?" She'd rub her eyes, reaching out.

"I'm here, sweetheart," he'd touch her fingers so she knew it wasn't a dream. Instantly, her heart settled and her worry was eased.

At her door, Hiram would come in clutching a glass of water and place it on her nightstand. She'd never drink it. But having it there told her all was well and they were really back.

They'd kiss her forehead and Rachel would sleep the rest of the night without nightmares of scary wolves and the lifeless, tattered bodies of her dads. Until the next hunt.

"I hope you didn't have anything else come up tonight," Shelby said walking towards the kitchen.

"No, nothing," she almost checked her phone to see if Brittany had sent her a text or if she had missed a call during the drive. "I cleared my schedule for tonight." She paced through the living room, eyeing everything like it was the first time ever in the house.

She had to do a double take, eyes widening when she saw the picture from graduation. Rachel remembered that day. She had spent the whole night before and morning going over with Brittany the plan to move in together.

After the ceremony, Shelby had waved her down smiling like an over zealous mother and waving a disposable camera like the rest of the parents. "Let's go," she had muttered to Brittany trying to hurry them up. But Brittany was caught up with her parents and Finn was busy with Kurt, Burt and his mom.

The next thing she knew, Shelby had pulled her in, begging for at least one picture and for her to stop scowling and smile properly.

Looking at it now made Rachel frown. The smile Shelby had was so sincere, so proud while Rachel looked like she wanted nothing more than to get out of there. But Shelby had pushed everything aside for that moment. She had let go of all their arguments and how many lonely days she was at home when Rachel was gone for weeks on end.

And Rachel couldn't even give her one smile.

"You're still vegan, right?" Shelby called from the kitchen, breaking her concentration on the picture.

Rachel felt herself smile. "Yes," she called back.

"Kind of contradictory don't you think?"

__Before Rachel saw her she knew who it was. Quinn - the girl from Shelby's store. The girl that looked so startling human with her warm, liquid hazel eyes. The girl with the voice Rachel could remember and pick it out almost anywhere. It was smoky, much too gentle, yet held a twinge of harshness that hadn't been there when she thought Rachel was just a mere customer.

It startled her to hear it in the house, but her shock quickly washed away as Rachel turned to see her coming down the stairs. Another wolf. Rachel could feel it. She could see it all over her. She should've known Shelby was housing wolves again. Too bad she failed to mention that when they spoke.

"Vegan werewolf hunter?" Quinn stepped down off the last step. She tilted her head back, arms crossing her chest. "Something about that doesn't seem…right."

Rachel opened her mouth to speak when Shelby came back into the room. She looked from Quinn then to Rachel, catching the strained tension that had come into the living room.

Shelby eyed her, eyes apologizing. "You met Quinn," she said after a moment.

"Yes," Rachel's smile was forced. She watched Quinn's own grin pull onto her pink lips, eyes creasing from the action. Such a pretty smile was wasted on a mouth that hid fangs. "We met the other week. Pleasure,"

Quinn's grin faltered. Her eyes flicked down to Rachel's necklace. It rested neatly against the front of her dress. She brushed her hair back over her shoulder so it wouldn't be hidden. The twitch in Quinn's lip was just barley noticeable.

"Yes," Quinn recovered. _"Pleasure," _

Shelby clapped her hands, breaking the glacier of a stare Rachel was locked in. "Quinn, could you help me get the table set?"

"Sure," she nodded, holding her gaze on Rachel until she disappeared around the corner.

Before Shelby could get away, Rachel grabbed for her elbow, pulling her back. "You didn't inform me that we were having dinner guests tonight."

"I'm sorry, Rachel," Shelby sighed, giving a sincere apologetic smile.

"At the store," Rachel hissed. "You didn't say that she was living with you. That anyone was living with you."

Shelby pursed her lips. "If I had, would you have still agreed to come?"

No. "Yes,"

"If it really bothers you that much, you can leave. Or," She lowered her eyes so they were level with Rachel's. They reflected hers so much it hurt. "You can have a seat and we can have dinner." Rachel glared. "It's up to you."

-/-/-/-

Rachel glanced at the other chair in front of her where Shelby had once been sitting. The sound of the oven creaking open echoed from the kitchen and Rachel wished she would hurry with bringing the dessert so she could leave. With no message from Brittany, she felt obligated to wait until the end even if she had a feeling Brittany wasn't contacting her on purpose even if something did happen.

Being there reminded her too much of high school days of late evening dinners and forced conversations. Their lives were too different to form any lasting discussion. Time had changed Rachel and though she was open to tolerating Shelby, she would never agree with her and the argument that lasted half of the dinner was proof of that.

It had been no different, and the presence of Quinn sitting at the head on the opposite end, silently chewing away at her dinner shooting Rachel the occasional glare made it all the more dreadful.

The oven squeaked shut followed by the bang of cabinet doors. "You're Shelby's daughter," Quinn said. It was the first words she had spoken since shutting down when Shelby asked Rachel how Sue was treating them.

"Well enough," Rachel had answered. "We're paid by the hour now and not for how many kills we get in a week."

"Oh," Shelby had nodded, attempting to end the conversation but Rachel didn't.

Quinn dropped the fork she was lazily dragging around her plate to look up at Rachel. "You're a hunter,"

"Both are correct, yes," Rachel blinked up to her. If she hadn't known better, she would've suspected Quinn was human. But maybe she had been and like so many others Rachel knew, that blessing was taken away from her. "Though the former is something that I'd rather not go by."

"Why?"

"Well isn't it obvious?" Rachel ticked, dabbing her lips with a napkin and sat back. "We both spend our lives doing the exact opposite of each other. Not to mention that I belonged to my two fathers before they died, or murdered rather, and I was forced to go back to Shelby."

Quinn laughed a humorless laugh all breathy and sugary that made Rachel sick to her stomach at how sweet it was. "Self defense is hardly murder,"

Rachel's eyebrows shot up. "Is that how you justify it?"

"Everyone has the right to fight for their life,"

"Everyone, yes," Rachel blinked away from piercing, bright eyes. "But not every_thing_,"

Moon wide hazel eyes were steady on her. It was unnerving. It made her feel like the prey. Like once Rachel turned her back or let down her guard, Quinn would be lunging across the table, bones popping and snapping in the change with teeth and claws coming for her.

"Are you scared of me?" it was a taunting question.

Ones that big bad wolves too big for their hunches would whisper when they thought they had her beat. What the scary wolves in her nightmares kept asking her as they gnawed on the bones of her dead fathers, fangs dripping with blood, hungry for a little bit more Berry.

Was she scared? From the age of three and things went bump in the night she had been scared. But that fear scabbed over into hate and a bitter resentment that made her seethe in her seat at the question Quinn had the nerve to ask her. Because maybe, yes, she was scared of Quinn. Maybe.

"No," she said simply. She picked up the glass on the table, bringing it to her lips and hoping Quinn didn't see the slosh the liquid did as her hands shook. "If I were scared, how could I do what I do and do it well?"

Quinn's jaw flexed. "Is it so hard to even look at me?"

"And give something like you the satisfaction of feeling superior?" She moved her eyes, letting them completely pass Quinn up. She couldn't look into her eyes again. "I'd rather not."

"I am half of what your are,"

Rachel choked, appalled at even the thought that she was like them. Holding a fork and knife and using proper dinner etiquette meant nothing. "You are nothing like us,"

"Okay!" Shelby came into the dining room. She sat down a platter of fresh baked brownies at the center of the table and took her place at the head. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Quinn said, reaching for a brownie. "Rachel was just telling me all about hunting and how much she loves being a murderer."

Rachel stared, enraged as Quinn split the brownie in half and sank her teeth into it. "It's something we have in common, it would seem."

"Then that makes you just like us, doesn't it?"

"Both of you," Shelby snapped. "Stop it." Rachel fumed.

The tension was thick. It made Rachel's nerves buzz uneasily and her heart pound. She looked up at Shelby. She could've made it the two of them the way they had discussed in her office. She could've warned her about Quinn.

Rachel glanced over to the wolf at the end of the table, startled to see her staring straight at her, mouth flat in a line and eyes just barely narrowed as if it were Rachel who were the intruder. As if it were Rachel that was sending shivers down her spine with the slickness of her voice.

"I can't be here anymore," she bolted up from her seat almost sending it tilting backwards.

Quinn scratched a spot behind her ear. "Sorry. Forgot to take my flea bath." She taunted.

"Quinn," Shelby shot her a pointed look. "Rachel, sit back down,"

"I have to go," Rachel tossed her napkin down onto the table. "I'm afraid I won't be coming back by. Not while you keep such company."

"Rachel, wait!"

"Goodnight, Shelby,"

"Bye Rachel," Quinn called just before she slammed the door. Rachel hurried to her car, anger burning her warm enough in the cold. She jammed her key into the lock.

"Rachel, wait," Shelby came down after her. "Rachel, what happened? I'm sure whatever it is, Quinn meant nothing by it."

"How can you even defend them?" she whirled around on Shelby. "She just sat there, taunting me because she knew I couldn't do anything. Making me out to be something that I'm not."

"I highly doubt Quinn was trying to make you feel threatened. Quinn's a sweet girl and so is Santana-"

Rachel coughed out a laugh. "There's more?"

"You're not leaving on this kind of note again." Shelby slammed the door Rachel had just tugged open. "I know we have our differences and that's probably never going to change, but please give us a chance."

"I never wanted to so what makes you think I will now?" There was a flicker of hurt on Shelby's face before she countered.

"Because I'm all you have left," Rachel felt the air get knocked out of her. "You can't be a hunter forever, Rachel. You and I both know if something happens to you, Sue will be done with you. Then what?"

Then what? Rachel opened her mouth to speak but quickly shut it. Because after Hiram was gone, in came Shelby, allowing her to lock herself up in her room and cry and lash out until the ache in her chest eased.

Shelby took a deep breath, shoulders losing their tension. "Come by again,"

She sighed, eyeing the window of her old room. Hazel eyes stared down on them. "Only if you promise that I don't have to sit across from that-"

"Quinn," Shelby said, sounding suddenly tired. Rachel noticed the bags under her eyes. "Her name is Quinn and nothing else."

"Fine. Quinn," she said through gritted teeth. "But only if,"

Shelby wasn't quick enough to wipe the triumphant grin off her face before Rachel saw it. "You won't have to sit across from her."

"Very well," she tossed her hair over her shoulder and opened the car sliding in.

Shelby tapped on her window until it rolled down. "Thank you for coming, Rachel,"

"Thank you, Shelby," Rachel muttered. "Thank you for having me,"


	5. Part IV

**Part IV**

Her perfume lingered in the air long after she left. The fragrance of her skin was like Shelby's. It lacked that werewolf musk but held a strange spice Quinn knew was from the wolfsbane Rachel was use to having draped on her. Even so, it was strong, filling up the dining room and lingering in the living room and holding strong weeks after her first appearance.

Quinn stopped in front of the graduation picture, eyeing the girl in red cap and gown. She still looked young, too sweet to be what she was but the faint bags under her eyes and the tiniest of a twist at the corner of her eye gave way that innocence wasn't hers. It was tainted by the blood on her hands.

It almost disgusted Quinn the way hunters worked. How most of them were no older than high school. When her dad took out a few, Quinn had a feeling they were just in the cusp of life, ready to graduate. But hunting stopped them from a real future and because of that, wolves never even had one to claim.

"It was good to have her over again. We don't really get along," said Shelby, coming up beside her. Her fingers stretched out, touching the black frame the picture was in. "She really is a sweet girl,"

"I'm sure," it came out harsher than she intended but Quinn meant it. People weren't born killers and Rachel looked like one of those girls who liked the color pink and bedazzled everything. "I'm sorry for running her out,"

"She'll come back," Shelby assured her. Quinn doubted it

"Why didn't you tell us about her?"

"If you're worried about being discovered, Sue can't do anything to you as long as you're under my roof and protection." Shelby drew her hand away from the frame. Streaks were left where her fingers had wiped away the dust. "And Rachel won't turn on me."

Quinn slowly peeled her eyes away from the dark brown ones that were smiling up at her from the picture. "You two don't have the best of relationships to be trusting her with this."

"If that were the case, you'd already be dead,"

"She doesn't know about Sam?"

Shelby shook her head. "I don't think even Sue does. I told you, I will do whatever I can. You're safe." she turned to face her. "You're doubting me now are you?"

"It's kind of hard not to," her and Santana taking runs on guard once again was result of that. Shelby pursed her lips but said nothing more. "Do you regret it?" asked Quinn, catching Shelby's drifting eyes. "Giving her to them?"

"Sometimes," she said before walking off towards the kitchen. Quinn eyed Rachel in the photo one last time before leaving her and her scent behind.

She found her way upstairs and into the room. Santana lay curled up in the middle of the bed. "Nice to see you're up," said Quinn.

"Puck has some news for us," Santana sat up, stretching. Quinn titled her head. "Guy from the bar? He wants us to come around."

"You still think we can trust him?"

"More than Foster mom downstairs? Yes."

"Fine," Quinn moved to the dresser, throwing it open for a set of clothes. Some were hers but others were donated from Shelby from a stock she had collected from housing other wolves over the years.

"You still want to find Sam, right?" Santana eyed her.

Quinn narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what Santana's tone meant. As if she had pushed him from her mind and didn't care about him anymore. She had thought about him nearly nonstop since they showed up. Well, up until Rachel showed up.

The dinner guest Quinn told Santana about. But from each of their run ins with Rachel, Quinn didn't feel the same aggression Santana had at the bar. Even from the store, the way she had flipped her hair back flashing off her silver charm had been hardly a threat.

It was only unnerving. The same way it was unsettling the way Rachel refused to meet her eyes, or would shake ever so slightly with her being at the table. But in Rachel's eyes, Quinn wouldn't mistake the hardness in the corners of them as just pure hatred. Fear rested there and it was that fear Quinn would play off.

Quinn whipped a towel over her shoulder where it snapped at her back. "Of course I do," she said before leaving for the shower.

"You better," she heard Santana muttered before she shut the door and locked it.

Quinn was three when Judy brought a two-year-old Santana to their home. A little, sleeping, emaciated body was cradled in Judy's arms, head resting on her shoulder and one fist clutching onto her blouse while the other held a thumb in her mouth.

Quinn had to give up her bed that night for her. She sulked by her little bed, listening to Santana whimper and cry as Judy and Frannie washed her up and gave her some decent clothes. But her cries raised again in the night and Quinn slipped out of bed with Frannie to her room.

Santana shrunk away from her, back up against the headboard and eyes wide with tear streaks down her cheeks. Climbing onto the bed, Quinn stretched out her hand, holding it there until Santana took it and held onto it tight until they both fell asleep on top of the comforter curled into one another.

There were a lot of children like Santana. Too many stories she had heard of women getting kidnapped or raped or wooed into bed by some werewolf spreading their seed like it was the key in keeping the wolves from being killed out or hunted.

It was a sick trick, a horrible thing to do when most doctors in the northern parts didn't treat any human woman that had gotten pregnant from a wolf. The children were either abandoned, pushed off into some unknown pack or taken care of in orphanages until they reached the age the first change took place. That's when they were-

Quinn shivered under the hot stream of water that rained down on her head. Droplets rolled down her face and over milk white skin littered with too many faint scars and bruises to count.

In a way, Santana was lucky. Lucky that the woman, starving and scared and desperate saw Judy that night. She was lucky that the woman pushed her off into Judy's arms, pointing at the little girl with only the word Santana before running away. Otherwise, Santana would've been dead at the back of an alley without even a chance at a world that she didn't understand just yet.

It was months before Santana was healthy again and even longer so until she trusted the pack doctor, Dr. Lopez, his wife and three kids that took her in as one of their own. By age four, Santana Lopez knew English well enough to argue for what she wanted and by age ten her bones cracked for the first time under the full moon.

Never did they tell her the truth of where she came from. All Santana remembered was being scared and cold and sick then suddenly warm and safe with no more hunger pains. The lie that her parents were killed was the only thing keeping Santana from hating the wolves just as much as she disliked humans.

"I don't like this. I don't, Q," said Santana, sitting on the windowsill with one leg dangling out. Her jaws stretched in a yawn. Quinn rubbed a towel over her hair as she stepped back into the room. She dropped down onto the bed. "It's a set up,"

Quinn sighed, tossing the towel to the end of the bed. "It's not a set up,"

"Then what the hell do you call it?" She looked over her shoulder. The fatigue that had been so permanent on both of them from doing so much running had left Santana's eyes almost completely. "Shelby is already too good to be true. She's got a hunter for a daughter. It all screams set up."

"No it doesn't,"

"Your delusional denial is killing me. No wait. It _will _kill me."

"If it were a set up, we'd already be running for our lives."

"Maybe they're waiting," she threw her leg back over, stepping back onto carpet and shut the window. "Maybe they're waiting until they're done digging up dirt on us because your pseudo twin is a murderer."

Quinn growled. "Sam is not a murderer,"

"Not what they think,"

"Santana, listen, I get it. We've been running forever so it's hard to trust them but look," she gestured around the room. "This is the first time we have been able to park it for awhile since we lost Sam. Why do you want to ruin that already?"

"I'm only being cautious and the fact you're kind of shooting the breeze worries me."

"Trust me, okay? I've got us this far and I'm trying but you have to trust me."

Santana crossed her arms tight over her chest. "What she got over you?"

"Who?"

"Shelby," Quinn rolled her eyes, hand running through her hair, yanking out the tangles. "Seriously. When we started this run you would've never agreed to sit and play lapdog with anyone. We've been here over a month and all I know is you're laughing over leg of lamb and curling up at Shelby's feet like she's your master."

Quinn blanched. "What are you even talking about? I want to get out of here as badly as you."

"You think we can stay here," Santana pressed, eyes narrowed. "You want to stay here."

"So maybe I'm tired of running," Quinn sighed. "It's exhausting. I'm sorry I like not having to look over my shoulder every two minutes."

"We can use them but we can't become them, Q. You know what happened to home. You think this place will hold up?"

"People seem different here," she muttered.

"Yeah, I'm sure, and tomorrow Rachel's going to be waving protest flag and sporting an _I Love Werewolves_ shirt."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "What is your problem?"

"I know that look, Q," she pointed, "and ever since that dumb dinner, you've had it. I don't know if I can trust you if we're on two different pages."

Quinn lifted an eyebrow. "What look?"

"Just because someone gives you a bar of soap and a pat on the head doesn't mean they're okay. They're not." Santana snarled, taking a step closer. "We weren't safe before and we won't be here with Shelby no matter what she says or how appreciative you are that her daughter didn't go right ahead and run a knife through your heart."

"They have done us nothing but favors!"

Santana snorted, turning away from her and voice dropping. "You're losing it,"

Quinn snapped her mouth shut stopping the stream of words from falling out. She'd let it slide. She'd let it slide just like she disregarded how Santana refused to go around in her skins and would leave Quinn having to risk it running into towns to try and steal them things that they needed while they journeyed homeless.

Pretending to be human wasn't always the easiest thing. It was why a lot of wolves just went into hiding, kept together in tight knit packs and avoided any sort of housing they could unless built on thier own.

The first change is what made it difficult. For pure bloods it was usually around five, for half-breeds like Santana it came later. Quinn had to run miles away in the summer when Santana was ten because her piercing voice was too agonizing for her to bear.

Quinn was six when she first felt her bones snap. She knew it was happening. She screamed shrill at the top of her lungs, staring into her mother's blue eyes as they watched her body crack and break and crush into itself.

Quinn already knew all about humans and how not to growl at her enemies. It came from going into the city with her mother, holding her hand tight and knowing that as soon as she squeezed her hand twice and let go it meant for Quinn to run and hide until she tracked her down because someone realized what they were.

But the first change skewed up everything. The blood in her veins sang with the call of the moon and her stomach churned and her teeth gnashed hungry for things she had never craved before.

They were meant to stay indoors, watched by their parents for the first few months of full moons. Quinn hated each one of them. They hurt and her stomach twisted from hunger and her paws ached to pound the dirt and chase after the stars with the others.

It wasn't until she mastered resisting the full moon that she was allowed to even set foot into a human city along side some of the others for supplies like groceries and maintenance. Because one didn't have to wield to a full moon. It was just that most wolves didn't know how to control themselves.

Those wolvsed were the threats. Threats Judy and others would find running rouge and try to teach. Like the Evans'. But maybe that was why he was always so quick to switch and chase and snap at any threat that came on them. Threats like Santana could've become if she hadn't come to them. But even then, Santana rejected the play of a human face.

Quinn sighed, closing the drawer and walked across the room. "We're all we've got right now. Who else will you trust?"

"Don't get stupid," Santana turned away from her from where she sat at the foot of the bed.

"I'm on your side. Before anything, Santana," crouching, Quinn tried to meet her eyes but she never looked down. "I'm on your side – our side."

Santana slowly brought her gaze back. "You sure?"

"I'm sure," Quinn nodded. "Go get ready so we can meet Puck." She said, standing up to pull on a shirt. "The quicker we do this, the closer we are to Sam and the sooner we can leave. Right?"

"Right," Santana said, moving to leave. At the door she called over her shoulder, "And don't forget that."

She waited until Santana turned on the shower before pulling on the rest of her clothes and hurried down the steps to find Shelby to let her know they would be out for dinner. Lately Quinn had been skipping out on eating with Shelby afraid Rachel would pop up again and with Santana around, she was afraid more things would get thrown around than terse words.

"Hey, Shelby?" She called, running her hands through her short, damp hair to make it more presentable. "Santana and I are- oh-"

"Hi," Rachel looked up at her from where she was stirring a pitcher of dark red tea. Quinn leaned back out of the kitchen looking for Shelby. "She ran back to the store to get something she forgot." Rachel answered her confusion without even looking up.

Quinn pursed her lips, stepping into the kitchen. "That doesn't explain why you're here,"

Rachel's lip just barely twitched. "I believe I have more of a right to visit my mother than you even have to live."

"At least I respect her enough to put up with you."

"I tolerate you just fine,"

Quinn shrugged. She wasn't in the mood to argue. "What are you doing here?"

"Having dinner," Quinn fought against showing her shock. Shelby probably knew Rachel would be there and like last time, she hadn't told her about it. "Though I wasn't informed that you and your friend were going to be here, I can only assume that you will be joining."

"Unless it's you that we're cooking in the oven, I'll pass."

Rachel smirked, keeping her eyes down. She popped open the container of sugar, spooning more into the tea. "I was always told that it wasn't right to have animals begging at the table. You will hardly be missed."

"Look," Quinn said, pulling out one of the tall chairs at the island. Rachel watched her carefully as she sat down across from her, poking a nail at a crystal of sugar that had spilt onto the counter. "I'm only going to say this once."

Rachel sighed, in irritation. "And that is?"

"I'm sorry," deep brown eyes jerked up to meet hers. Such a different gaze than the picture. Colder, and empty but now held a hint of disbelief and uncertainty.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry?" she said again. "You're right. You do have more a right to be here than me."

Rachel laughed. The mocking tone set Quinn on edge. "I have more a right to do anything than you,"

"What's your problem with me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Rachel sucked a bit of sugar off her finger before pressing the top onto the pitcher closing it. The refrigerator popped open as she stored it inside.

"What if I wasn't?"

"What's the use in discussing things that can never be?"

"Humor me," Rachel laughed again like Quinn had just told a particularly funny joke. "Well?"

"You've given me no reason to like you," said Rachel coming back to the island. "As I recall, you started it the last time." Quinn opened her mouth to speak but Rachel continued on. "But I accept your apology though this doesn't mean that I dislike you any less."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Same goes for you,"

"And it doesn't mean that if your tail finds way across the lines, I won't hesitate to shoot."

"Yes you will,"

Rachel looked taken aback. "How can you sound so sure?"

"Because you can't even look at me without shaking." Rachel stopped. Glaring over at Quinn as she continued to pick at flakes of sugar. "Before you got the gun under control, I'd be gone."

"I'm not scared of you,"

"I thought hunters were supposed to be good at lying,"

"I knew something reeked in here," said Santana coming into the kitchen. Quinn could smell the wonderful fragrance of soap on her skin.

She stopped behind Quinn, nose turning up as she regarded Rachel. Quinn knew what was going through her head. Rachel was small, an easy target. They could be finished with her in a second.

"Hunter," Santana narrowed her eyes, watching her down the length of her nose.

"Wolf," Rachel cut back. Her face was red and her hands were moving a washcloth over the counter in a jagged rhythm.

"Let's go, Q. Before I do something I'll regret. Wait," she shot her eye at Rachel. "I wouldn't regret it."

"Pleasure to meet you too, _Santana,_"

Quinn saw the tone in her voice snake up nastily up Santana's spine. She took her by the arm, leading them out of the kitchen and out the door before more fire could be thrown.

-/-/-/-

"How much further?" asked Quinn. Santana shrugged, walking at her side with a face pulled tight and jaw notably clenched. "Are you sure he even gave us the right directions?"

"Yes I'm sure," she snarled. "Just shut up and follow me." Quinn nodded, crossing her arms around her chest to keep her hands warm against her body.

The tension coiled down Santana's back and reflected in the shift of her eyes. Santana never got a hold on the whole pretend to be human thing. She rejected it. She hated it. But as they walked to the edge of Shelby's district, following the border but not yet crossing over into where they'd certainly be shot at, it wasn't helping them.

It wasn't helping them that Puck couldn't bring this man named Schuester to them instead of having them risk their tails and find him up in Lima. Puck could only tell them so much. So when he mentioned a man he knew that had helped him and some others to bounce across lines and locate lost ones through the underground system, Quinn demanded his information.

She hadn't wanted to go, but finding Sam was such a high priority, if only to know if he were dead or alive, she'd risk it again. It was after a long discussion and a week and a half of debating whether it was a good idea or not, when Santana took the address off Puck and they headed out.

"There," Santana said, pointing to a stretch of apartment buildings up ahead. "That's it,"

Quinn examined them, looking up and down the long opened street. They would hardly have much cover going across. "You're sure?"

"See for yourself," she held up the paper of directions to her.

"Lets go," she took the lead, brushing her fingers on Santana's elbow to ease her.

They had run through tons of towns just as violent and not accepting of werewolves. Now was not the time to lose their cool. But even as they started to trot across the street, heads low and staying in the light to not draw suspicion, Quinn felt the tension in her own body.

It had been too many weeks since they ran and for someone like Santana who was still just fighting against a full moon on the best of months, she knew they'd need to feel the warmth of pelts soon again.

It was almost too easy to weave through the apartment buildings. Quinn thought the hunters or police would guard a place where this Schuester lived. But they walked on through, hurrying up the walk of the apartments. Quinn glanced at the door number again before hurrying along. _6B_ was in her face in a matter of seconds. She knocked and waited.

"What if he's not in?" Quinn whispered.

"No," Santana's nostrils flared. "Someone's in there," Quinn knocked again, harder this time. The pat of footsteps sounded behind the door. A lock popped and it split open only as wide as the chain would allow.

Murky brown eyes looked up at Quinn. "May I help you?" he asked

Quinn looked back at Santana to answer. "Puckerman sent us. We're looking for a friend."

"Name?"

"Santana," she said slowly. "And this is Quinn,"

The door shut only to open again with the chain gone. "Hurry inside," he ushered them in quickly, locking the deadbolt and chain back. "Did anyone see you?"

"No," said Quinn. She had her senses up the entire time. "I don't think so," Schuester looked hesitant at her words for a moment. "No one followed us. We came up along Shelby's territory before crossing."

"You've met Shelby?" they nodded and he relaxed, moving across the carpet away from the door. "That takes a little of the stress off. As long as you're under her protection…would you like something to drink? Tea?" They nodded to whatever he had ready, listening to it pour into cups and the clink of a spoon as he stirred.

Quinn observed the apartment. It was a small place but not too small. Large enough for two people to have lived there but the bareness of the walls and lack of décor told her there was no one else. Only one scent reigned stronger than the faint musk and nighttime flavors of wolves come and gone only stopping by long enough to leave a tiny trace they had been there.

Schuester came back into the room, handing them each a cup. Santana sniffed at the steam untrusting before she sat it down on the coffee table. Quinn took a sip making up for her rudeness. She could feel the tea warm her throat and spread in her stomach to her limbs.

"Santana you said? And Quinn?"

"Yes,"

Santana crossed her arms over her chest. "And you are?"

"Will Schuester," he tensed. Quinn pressed her hand into Santana's knee. It wouldn't help of they scared someone meant to help them

"Mr. Schuester," Quinn began, just nodding when he told her she cold call him Will. "We've been with Shelby for almost two months waiting for Sam to come."

"Yeah, Sam," he rubbed at the stubble on his chin. "Puck has had me listening for that name over the wire."

"Wire?"

Schuester waved a hand for them to follow. He took them into a second bedroom that had been made into a sort of study. On the desk was a box like a police radio scanner with wires fashioned into it and headphones hanging off a corner.

"One of the wolves got it for me," he told them. "Artie helped fix it up but it only gets local reports and even then there are few that go back and forth from Sue's station to the police."

Will rounded the desk, falling into the chair and clicked it on. Lights lit up on the face. Quinn could hear a faint static. "What does that help?"

His jaw tightened at Santana. "It's saved a lot of wolves. Like Puck for instance. We heard of his attack over the wire and I was able to let Shelby know before Sue could do any damage."

"You report to Shelby?" Santana asked.

"For most things, yes," there was a crackle from the headphones. Quinn heard a male voice but it was nothing concerning wolves. "A lot of time, it's too late."

Quinn saw Santana's eyes narrowed then flit to her. They were both wondering the same question. If Will could hear the reports and he reported to Shelby, then why hadn't Shelby told them about Will and that he might be able to track Sam down?

"Sam hasn't come up?" Quinn asked again.

"It would help if I had a last name."

"Evans," She gave, ignoring the warning Santana was giving her. She had been the one saying they needed to take chances. "Samuel Evans,"

Will thought a moment then shook his head. "None. But it is possible he is going under a fake name. Write down a description. If they happen to mention it over the wire, I'll phone Puck."

"Why not Shelby?" asked Santana while Quinn scribbled a written description of Sam. But if what Will suggested about him changing his name was right, he may have even changed his face to keep off the radar.

"She isn't the biggest fan on this method much anymore," he explained, turning a knob on the radio. More fuzz followed with the crackle of voices. He kept turning. "It was helpful back when she first came in and a lot of wolves were running and being murdered. The line is mostly dead about wolves and even when it is, it's usually to confirm a kill."

Quinn met Santana's eyes from where she was still crouched over the sheet of paper. With another few turns, the static coming out of the headphones cleared up. A lot of the words shared between officers were in a code she didn't understand. Will seemed to because his brow creased. She finished up writing, doing her best to sketch out Sam but it seemed pointless.

"Sam Evans. Dirty blonde, green eyes…" he trailed off, stabbing the paper onto a corkboard littered with news articles and clippings and pictures. "I'll be listening,"

"And we just wait?" Quinn stepped back. She caught the picture of will and another woman sitting on the corner of the desk. She was blonde, bright eyes and blonde hair. From the smell of the apartment, that woman hadn't been there in a long time.

"That's all we can do," he frowned at the both of them and led them out of the study leaving the radio humming. "I'll do the best I can, but it'll be wise if you didn't come back here. If anyone knows you've been here-

"Yeah, we know. We're not safe. Come on, Q."

She just got a small thank you smile to him before she was being pulled away and they were sprinting full force back to safety just before the lights of a police car could shine on their tails disappearing into the bushes.

-/-/-/-

Rachel held her gun by her ear, anger forcing the air in and out of her nose because she saw them. She saw them making a run like their lives depended on it back down the border line she had watched them sneak up on.

Rachel knew where they were going. She had seen enough wolves run to Mr. Schue's home. Mr. Schue who moved three times to keep the hunters from murdering the wolves that left his house or apartment. The hunters who had accidently mistaken his wife, Terri, for being a wolf and shot her clear through the heart.

It was the one thing that split up Hiram and the friendship he had with the man who had taught Rachel and the others at McKinley before he quit. He was about the only man Hiram respected even though he devoted everything to reverse what the Berry's did. And to repay him, he murdered his wife.

It had been awful. It had been an accident, but awful nonetheless. So when Hiram was attacked and had his entrails ripped out before he had the chance to shoot his pistol, Rachel could've sworn her dad died in peace because he figured he deserved it.

But Rachel had seen Quinn and Santana and just like Quinn had said, she hesitated and she didn't shoot because golden eyes had flicked to her just before they had burst into pelts. Rachel swore she heard Quinn bark in a patronizing laugh as she ran swiftly through safety in the woods, her wondrous howl rising to the treetops.

-/-/-/-

Darkness buzzed with life all around. Rachel sat on Shelby's porch, staring out into the street. Howls from afar crept up into the chilled air of the night and faded out on a sweet note. Rachel closed her eyes, letting the notes sink in and her throat to set before she took a deep breath and returned the call.

"You shouldn't do that,"

She hated herself for jumping at Quinn's voice. She should've been use to it, yet it still crept up her spine and spread a strange mix of cold and warmth through her body.

"That was a lament," Quinn said, coming down the walk just as quiet as ever. No wolf had ever been able to sneak up on Rachel the way Quinn could. She moved like a ghost, slipping in soundlessly and swiftly but leaving the chill of its presence behind. "Someone's died tonight,"

Hazel eyes took in the black of her clothes. No doubt Quinn could smell the wolfsbane in her jacket and hint at the silvers encrusted in every piece of metal that decorated her body.

Hunter's gear was something of an honor to wear around Lima. Like the hunters of the past, it demanded respect from the people. On most occasions, the public was civil to them, thanking them for keeping their streets safe.

Sometimes Miss Pillsbury, who called in a lot of the sightings, would send cookies in a Tupperware container to them. On other occasions, Bryan Ryan slipped Rachel and Jesse tickets to shows glad someone was keeping the homeless wolves out of his theatre where they'd sneak in at night and curl up near the furnace down stairs to stay warm.

They were probably higher than the Lima police force if she thought about it. But time had started to pass when their parents were no more. The activist propaganda is what they blamed it on. They slandered the hunters, made them out to be ruthless, unjust and cold.

And maybe they were, Rachel allowed herself to think as she took in Quinn who now stood next to her. Because killing off a pretty face like that would make her no better than a serial killer just out for a fresh new kill. It would make her no better than a wolf, going for the throat just for the taste of blood. And Rachel knew there had been multiple occasions when that was all she wanted to do. Shed blood.

Quinn's eyes snaked up from the leather of her shoes to the silver star on her neck. "And by the hands of one of you,"

Rachel stiffened under the scrutinizing gaze. "I'd have to say you are correct "

Quinn moved to lean against the post, head angled out across the street. "Why aren't you with the others?"

She shrugged. Suddenly the leather jacket felt uncomfortably tight and her skintight pants felt like they would cut off her circulation. "They can manage without me,"

"Why are you here?"

Rachel shook her head, smiling only to fill the awkwardness. "We keep having this same conversation,"

"When you're here, it's threatening." Quinn said.

Rachel looked up at her. She had been watching them since her second dinner. She found herself breaking off patrol, to venture to Shelby's if only to see who these two were.

They were different from the wolves Rachel had encountered. Quinn and Santana weren't afraid of her. They didn't shrink away or tuck their tails. They mocked her, made her seethe. And Quinn…Quinn just looked at her.

Like the third night Rachel had come and she was sitting in the recliner turning pages in a book. She just looked up at Rachel, locking eyes and didn't blink away until Rachel felt invaded and she turned away.

"I'm not here to kill you or Santana or turn you in." said Rachel. Shelby had told her that's what they were afraid of. That they had only come for a rest and were not a threat to the hunters. Rachel had scoffed and continued to sharpen her knife.

"Then why are you here?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly.

She had pulled away from the patrol with the others. Rachel knew she wasn't missing much. They hardly had anything to look out for. Most nights it was the three of them, sitting in the bed of Finn's truck with their weapons propped and ready against the side.

They'd talk and joke through the night, trying to decipher whether the howl or click of a branch came from the south along Shelby's lines or up closer to their territory.

Some nights they split up and wondered the woods, keeping as quiet as they could and waiting. Sometimes bullets sang and made purchase, but most time not. The fun they use to have staying on the border and attacking the wolves that accidently crossed the line for only about five minutes had been taken away from them.

Rachel didn't want to risk losing her silvers and she wouldn't let that fall onto Finn or Brittany. Yet, it didn't explain why she had wondered across the line, telling them they should split and do a stroll, and found her way to Shelby's house. Most times, she stuck in the shadows, just watching.

She hadn't gone inside, but Shelby had come out, offering her a mug of tea in her mug decorated with golden stars. Gold. Not silver like the ones she had worn since she was five. Silver belonged to her fathers, and though a lot of people held gold higher than silver, Rachel wore the latter in a much higher honor.

Quinn crossed her arms across her chest. "You don't know?"

"Maybe I miss it here," Quinn laughed and it made Rachel angry but at the same time it perked her ears and made her want to say something snide or something ridiculous to hear it flit across the air again. "Do not laugh at me. You don't know anything about me and Shelby."

"I know enough to know you don't miss it here."

"You don't know me,"

"You said yourself that you didn't want to be known as Shelby's daughter."

"This is true," she said, sheepishly. "She has made my life and reputation as a hunter quite strained since she came back here when I was fourteen. I hated her for it. She made my fathers and I out to be horrible people. She only cared to reveal herself as my mother because of the press."

"What you do is horrible,"

Rachel wheeled around on her. "Honestly, Quinn, you have no right to speak to me the way you do. You might live here, and my mother may let you drink out of my personal glasses, but in everyway I am still above you and could sentence you to whatever death I deem suitable."

Quinn laughed again, mockingly so. Rachel fought the wave it sent through her like chills letting only the annoyance be made known. "So why haven't you?" she asked. Rachel blinked up to warm eyes. Warm, too warm, eyes.

They didn't match all the cold stares she had gotten form other werewolves. Even Puck who had once been human held a glare in his eye when he saw her. Quinn didn't. Not like the others. It was there, but it was subdued to the point her gaze on her was more inviting and easy. Rachel didn't like it.

"I read the story you wrote about Julian," she went on. "And the one you'll probably come up for whoever it is they killed tonight. Why not us?"

"No one knows about you but me. The others don't."

"Why not?"

"Should I tell them? Have you done anything to break the law?"

"Did the others?"

"What do you want to hear from me, Quinn?" the name felt strange in her mouth. Werewolves didn't have names. They had numbers. Kill number 2768. Runaway number 2773. Rouge 1423. They had slanderous titles like mutt, or dirty bastard or the deranged bitch.

But Quinn was Quinn and it felt wrong on Rachel's tongue just as much as it felt right. Like she was chatting with just another neighborhood girl who was curious as to why she shot some wolves but kept ones like Quinn alive.

"Why are you here?"

"I told you I don't know. I just happened to wonder here. I am still technically on patrol because crimes do happen here in the safe district and though I can't kill them, I have the authority to take them to the station."

"Why are you here?"

Rachel huffed, ignoring her. She had the right to be, not Quinn. Not Santana who had growled at her and bared white teeth at her when she caught sight of Rachel on the porch. But even in that, Rachel hadn't been able to pull the trigger. That trigger she was damn well ready to pull after that first dinner date and everything about Quinn made her want to jab even the butter knife into her.

But even then she had been scared. Scared in a way she had been few times in her life. Like when Leroy clutched her hand minutes before he died. It was that fear that she was about to spend the rest of her living years without him holding her to his chest and laughing his boisterous laugh that shivered through her.

Like the time she saw Kurt plummet from that tree when he was taking patrol high up to give them a sense of what was around them. His heart had stopped for a moment too long before Finn pumped his chest and he coughed for air. Because Kurt was even dearer to her than her secret collection of Broadway paraphernalia.

Or when she stood on the steps of Shelby's porch the first time and everything hit her when she realized there was no one to crash her crying face into anymore to sooth her nightmares that still jerked her frightened and panting in bed.

"Rachel?" Her name came off Quinn's lips easy. Too easy. Easy like they had been long time friends who laughed and cried and told everything to each other.

"You know why I'm here," she said finally. "You saw me the other night. When you were coming from Mr. Schue's."

Quinn smirked. "I did,"

"My gun was cocked,"

"I heard it,"

Rachel pushed up from the step, glaring up into Quinn's face. "Stop holding it over me like you know why I didn't do it. You were almost back across anyway and if Shelby heard-"

"This isn't about Shelby,"

No. It wasn't. It was about other things like losing her slivers and her friends that were meant to shun her once those were taken and her weapons were given to someone else. It was about Shelby being angry with her and Santana most likely set on sinking he teeth into her neck.

It was about losing that pair of eyes that echoed the same pain and hurt and longing and brokenness that Rachel felt everyday since the lose of one father then another and other hunters. She didn't need to know Quinn's story to know she was rattled just like her.

"I hesitated,"

"Why?"

She dropped her eyes to the ground. "I don't know,"

Quinn stepped forward, head tilted. "Are you scared of me?" Yes. Because Quinn was too calm and easy. She wasn't use to that. It made her uncomfortable because it made Quinn unpredictable.

But most of all she was scared of Quinn because she knew Quinn could see everything on her just the same as she could the other way around. She was scared because Quinn, a werewolf, was not very much different from herself. And if that were so, then Rachel was a monster all the same.

"I still have more of a place here than you ever will," said Rachel.

Quinn only shrugged, stepping up the steps to the porch. "So pull the trigger next time."

Rachel boiled where she stood, listening to a gunshot ring out and a howl being silence by the hands of either Finn or Brittany.

She'd fail again and Quinn knew she would.


	6. Part V

**Part V**

Rachel stepped out of the car at the same time Finn's truck rolled up into the parking lot of the station. The large van used to capture wolves sat in front lot. Jesse came around it with a water hose, spraying out the compartment in the back barred off from the front for holding.

Dirt and debris and what must've been crusted blood dripped off the walls and washed into the bed where it seeped out onto the concrete a nasty, brackish color.

"Oh," said Brittany beside her. Rachel nodded. It had been a while since they needed the van.

"Well, hi. It's about time you showed up." Jesse greeted them. "I hope you're ready for tonight,"

Finn rolled his eyes. "What do you know?"

Jesse shrugged, thumb over the end of the hose so the water sprayed out like a fan. "The Chang's are in with Sue now. We'll find out when they're done."

"The Chang's?" Brittany echoed.

Senior and Junior Mike Chang of Findlay. Rachel turned up her nose at them. The Findlay district cut its hunters out during the first flux of activist. Senior Chang wasn't a fan of confrontation and the picketing in front of his law firm was going to shoot the family down within a matter of weeks if he didn't do anything. Rachel didn't blame the people.

They killed wolves, that's what they all did. Even what the St. James did compared to the Chang's seemed civil. Public execution to spark fear and camps just short of the concentration camps the country saw during the Vietnam war made even Rachel sick.

His hunters were cut, but the wolves he managed to keep a hold onto were fashioned into the Findlay police force's track dogs. Forced to stay in furs most of their lives and eat out of bowls and lick black business shoes polished for the chief.

Rachel had picked one off once. They had gotten a call about a rouge werewolf making a run for it. Rachel ran with Brittany on her side, gun cocked and ready. The wolf almost seemed deranged, disoriented. The body that it shuddered into was hardly much of a person with his body so thin you could see the ridges of his ribs.

When Jesse stapled the form to send back to the Chang's to confirm the death, she got a glimpse of the man's face, decked in the police uniform looking healthy. It was hardly the image of what she saw in the woods. It was one of the few kills Rachel had been happy to do for other reasons than pure blood. No one deserved to live like that.

"Can't they manage on their own?" Rachel said. "The number of wolves that have escaped from there should show that their system is faulty."

They followed Jesse into the station. In one of the waiting chairs across from the front desk sat the younger of the Chang's. He wore the dark navy of an officer uniform but Rachel knew he was an ex hunter. No police officer bore those kinds of scares across the neck or the obvious puncture of teeth marks above the eyebrow.

Rachel glanced back at Brittany seeing if she saw them. Her blue eyes widened. Maybe. Just maybe he was like her.

"Hey," Finn said. "I'm Finn,"

"Mike,"

"Yes, we know," Jesse dismissed him, rounding around his desk.

Brittany bounded over, plopping into the chair beside him. "Hi, Mike. I'm Brittany. That's Rachel. How'd you get that?"

His fingers touched the tender, raised flesh above his right eyebrow. "One of the trackers turned on us," he answered but nothing more than that.

Sue's office door opened and they all stood up as she and Mr. Chang came up the hall. For the first time Rachel could see the uncomfortable anger on Sue's face as she trailed him.

He stopped in front of Mike in his black suit, talking low into his ear so no one else could hear it. Brittany did, though. Her face instantly fell and Rachel reminded herself to ask what it was he had said.

"Sue," Mr. Chang extended his hand to her.

Sue shook it firmly. "Thank you, Mr. Chang. I'll see to it that my hunters don't fail."

"That had better be the case," He gave one final shake before pulling it away and turning to his son. "Michael?" Mike nodded, standing a little taller than before. Mr. Chang brushed his shoulder against Mike's as he headed for the door and left leaving an uncomfortable and dry silence.

"You," Sue pointed to them. "My office. Now."

Sue had them lined up in front of her desk like they were soldiers in the army. Well maybe they were. Lima's own little gang of twenty something's that Sue had held onto after her most trusted infantry had bailed on her.

She came walking into the office, keeping the door open and sat down at her desk. The room was too small for all of them. Especially with Mike now added.

Rachel chanced a glance down at him at the end standing beside Jesse. His face was fixed, lips in a fine line but something about his eyes was too soft. Soft like Rachel remembered Sugar looking when Rachel had handed her one of the hunter's blades. Rachel wondered how long Mike would last but the flicker of concentrated determination he had about himself made her think he had a little more fight in him than Sugar.

"Trackers," Sue started, pulling on her glasses. She picked up a stack of papers and threw them onto the desk so they fanned out.

An array of six faces glared up at them all. Faces that Rachel knew none of these men and few women would no longer have. Not if they had been Chang's trackers. The human half of them was probably too weak to run even ten miles, let alone the forty it took to get down into Lima.

"We've been picking them off one by one but there's been an uprising. They're too dumb to run their tails anywhere else but right into Shelby's district which puts them into our hands. Chang," Sue eyed him.

Mike stepped out in front of them, pointing to each face and explaining what they looked like in furs and what to expect. Rachel already knew they were more skilled, knew they wouldn't hesitates to take them out because it was what they were trained for. That whatever they did do not let them get away.

"Chang wants them alive," Sue concluded once Mike stepped back into place in the line. Her eyes flickered up to the youngest St. James. "Alive, St. James,"

"Yes, ma'am," His grin was much too sinister even for Rachel. No doubt Chang wanted them alive to put them all to a slow and painful death for himself.

Sue held her eyes on him for a moment longer until his smirk slid off. "Shoot at them, slow them down, capture them and bring them in. If they so much as scratch a flea off into Shelby's district, so help me if you accidently render one of them so close to dead it's even a possibility, I will strip you of every fiber of pride you have left, as well as those precious silvers you keep so polished. There is no room for that sort of error here."

She looked at Rachel this time. Rachel flexed her jaw, forcing herself not to drop her eyes away. She wasn't going to step over that line. Not again. Sue's threat alone was enough to scare her into not even trying.

"Is everyone clear?"

"Yes, ma'am!" They all said.

"That's what I like to hear," she nodded and Rachel could've sworn she saw the hint of a smile tug at the corner of Sue's mouth. "You patrol at nightfall. St. James you keep me posted on everything. Understood?"

"Understood," Jesse answered for them all since she was looking at him.

"Chang, I'm putting you as lead of this since it's your dogs. You've got the van prepped?"

"All done," Jesse nodded.

"Good. Now get out of my sight and don't return until I have all six of those nasty bastards in my cell. Otherwise,"

They were already shuffling out before she finished.

-/-/-/-

"What do you mean I didn't get the job?" Quinn could hear Sugar's voice coming from Shelby's office from where she sat in the break room.

Shelby's sigh followed. "We've already filled the position,"

"Yes, you have. _My_ position,"

"Sugar," Shelby sounded frustrated and annoyed. "I'm sorry, but I've already told you over the phone. Just because you showed up here, doesn't mean I'm going to fire someone and open a position for you."

"Why not? I'm sure I'd work better than any of these other losers you have working here." She paused. "Sorry. Aspergers."

"This girl. Give it up already." Santana snorted. Quinn laughed with her. "Someone should take down the now hiring sign outside before she finds out Shelby's lying."

Quinn tuned out the rest of the conversation. "Why won't she let her on?"

"You don't know?" Quinn shifted her eyes to Mercedes who sat next to her drinking warm water with lemon and honey out of a thermal mug.

Quinn liked Tuesday's and Thursday's. She enjoyed hearing Mercedes' lessons from the back practice rooms. Much to Tina's dissatisfaction, she made sure she was working the back desk for instrument repairs because it was closer to the practice rooms and she could hear the singing.

Quinn was surprised she wasn't a wolf herself. Quinn thought she'd make a nice one, always hitting notes higher than the others and showing off her pipes.

"Know what?"

"Sugar is Mr. Motta's daughter," Mercedes said.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Doesn't mean shit to us, Wheezy,"

Quinn raised an eyebrow in confusion. She knew Santana sort of liked Mercedes. She was probably the only human she kind of didn't have the urge to snap the fingers off. But insulting nicknames was rare for anyone outside the pack.

Maybe it was from those rare occasions Quinn's ears picked up Santana's voice rivaling Mercedes from the back practice room during closing when she should've been helping lock up. It was delicious to hear their voices meld with Santana's raspier and Mercedes just a tad stronger.

Santana shot her a look telling her to wash that baffled smirk off her face before a clawed hand did it for her.

Mercedes only pursed her lips, looking across the table at Tina who had been quiet with her sandwich and chips. "Mr. Motta is the head of the clan northeast of here."

"Which would make Sugar a hunter," said Quinn.

"N-n-no," Tina said with that tiny stutter that drove Santana crazy sometimes because it came and went but they didn't know if it was real or not yet. "But Shelby doesn't trust her. Mr. Motta works close with Sue."

"And Sue can't be trusted at all." Mercedes added. "She might let Shelby have her district, but more of us here have ended up getting shot at than have stayed safe."

_Us. _Quinn caught it. It made her like Mercedes a little more and the raise of Santana's own eyebrows told her she had heard it too.

"Not to mention it doesn't make any sort of sense why she's trying to work here and not where her daddy practically runs the city." Mercedes went on, sipping at her warm water.

"But she wasn't a hunter?" Quinn asked astonished. It was different for the hunters line to be obstructed that way. Like blood past on wolf to each of them, silver passed down from one hunter to another.

Tina shook her head. "But she knows them so Shelby won't let her work here. Not when half her staff are wolves."

The door to Shelby's office banged open. They all turned to see Sugar storm past the break room door. "My father will hear about this unjust!" She shot back

Shelby came up soon after, leaning her back against the frame and pinching the bridge of her nose. "Tina," Shelby sighed. "Please make sure she leaves before I call the cops."

Tina nodded and left leaving the last couple bites of her sandwich on the table. Santana went to grab for it but Mercedes slapped her away. She growled, teeth showing but it didn't faze Mercedes the smallest bit.

"She's up to something," Shelby drummed her fingers on her lips much like Quinn had seen Rachel do before. "I know she is," She turned to Santana and Quinn. "If you two ever see her around. Let me know right away."

Quinn nodded. Tina came back through the door telling Shelby she had security make sure Sugar left the lot. "Thank you, Tina," Shelby said. "I've got to make a few calls. You ladies get back to work." Her heels clicked as she went away.

Tina fell back into her chair, looking at Santana. "Puck's here for you,"

"Me?" Santana asked,

Tina nodded while she swallowed. "He's at the front desk,"

"Oh," She got up.

"Already getting booty calls at work. Shame," Mercedes ticked.

"Jealous much?" She shot back. "Should've snagged him before he went all fur and paws. Q?"

Quinn followed her out but not before she head Mercedes make a stab at Satan and how she could take her own fur and paws and get the steppin'.

Puck stood at the front counter, chatting with one of the workers as they approached. He was dressed like Quinn had seen him at the bar. With baggy jeans and a t-shirt that had the sleeves cut out. The faint makings of scars ran up and down his arms.

They were scars he had gotten before he was turned. Werewolf marks never healed completely. Even Quinn had her share of scratches that would never completely fade away but they healed better than if she were human and gotten them.

He laughed with the lady at the counter, popping his head in their direction as they got closer. His eyes ran up and down Santana then flickered to Quinn licking his lips. Ugh.

"What is it?" she said a little too short.

The playful glint in his eyes dropped off. "Not here,"

Quinn led them into the quiet section. A few people stood around with headphones on, but their sharp ears would be able to pick up the faintest of whispers.

"You found Sam?" Quinn flat out asked because she hated a build up to things that were that important.

"Not sure," he whispered just as soft as she. She read his lips more than anything. "Schuester heard something over the police wire about a pack of rouges running down from Findlay. We don't know if Sam's with them but if-"

"We're going," Quinn cut in.

Santana gaped. "What?"

"What if he's with them?" She turned to Santana. "If he was with a pack then the numbers might've kept him safe."

"Q, I don't know if-"

"What would it hurt to go look?"

"The hunters have been assigned to take them out," said Puck and suddenly the danger of what she wanted to do was intensified.

Still, "What's the point in telling us this if we're not going to do anything?"

Puck ran a hand over his Mohawk, turning away from them to sort through a stack of rock n' roll records to keep suspicion off them. "If he's there, it's out of our reach. We can't cross Lima lines and if those hunters are out there, you'll be killed. So will your friend."

Quinn gritted her teeth. "So you came to tell us that Sam might be murdered tonight and we're supposed to be fine with this?"

Santana turned sadly onto her. "We go in there, we'll get killed."

"And if we don't, Sam might."

"You don't know if he's with them,"

"What if he is?" she asked, but neither said a thing. The hair down her neck and along her spine bristled. "We're going. Tonight."

Puck snorted. "Have fun, but I ain't risking my ass out there."

She wheeled on him. He wasn't that important to her. "You've been help enough. We don't need it any longer if he ends up being with them."

"Quinn," Santana hissed. Her fingers dug into her arm as she yanked her away far enough to where her voice wouldn't reach Puck's keen ears. "Feeling suicidal today?"

Quinn rolled her eyes at her heavy sarcasm. "Weren't you the one telling me that I need to keep my head? Not to lose sight of why we're still here? If Sam is there, we could get him back and we can leave."

"Or we can all end up dead,"

"Since when have you worried about that?"

"I don't know," she spat sarcastically. "Ever since I got to enjoy the luxuries of a warm bed and food in my stomach every night."

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "You're mocking me,"

"You're insane if you want to go up against those hunters." Her eyes flashed a fiery orange in her anger. "Rachel is a hunter. She attacks us, you're ready to kill her?"

Quinn froze straight up at the very thought and Santana's teeth peeked from between her lips as she grinned knowingly. Because any other time she'd never hesitate to answer a question of killing the threat. But Rachel was different because Rachel was tied to Shelby and Shelby was their savior.

Rachel was different because Quinn was still trying to make out the conflicted look in her eyes and why a girl that was meant to be warm and bright and fun was cold and calculating and guarded. Rachel was different because she made Quinn curious, made her want to strut her wolf around and watch her try and catch her tail.

But Quinn sucked in a breath, pulling her face into the best poker she could as she answered her, "Yes. You and Sam are my family. Shelby and Rachel aren't."

Santana's eyes shifted to each of hers, doing their best to penetrate her façade. But Quinn had gotten good at pretending. Good enough to trick a human butcher into given her a pound of meat when if he knew she were wolf, his cleaver would've chopped straight through her throat then and there.

Good enough for Santana to give in and tell Puck that they were going after that hunting party with or without his help. Live or die, they would tried, and if the failed, they'd all die together.

-/-/-/-

Sometimes it was frightening how much Rachel was excited about the assignments they received. They used to be bigger when they were a little younger. She'd suit up along side Hiram and they'd drive by the Pierce's, honking for them to hurry up and follow them to the meet up point at the station. Finn soon came driving up with a disgruntled Kurt and Jesse would saunter out on Sue's heels looking smug and clean in his leather.

The activist uproar made a lot of wolves eager, riling them up and making them think they could shoot their hunches down from forest terrain farther north and saunter right into territories they had no business being in. And each time, they would be there, weapons ready and boots banging dirt on the chase.

It was too thrilling. Almost as thrilling as the way Rachel felt during senior year talent show Finn convinced her perform in.

It was ultimately Kurt who had her write her name and peg it at the end with a star on the sign up sheet. He promised to show up if she sang. So she did. Even without Hiram and Leroy there, having Kurt and Finn and Brittany and even Jesse who walked in late made it wonderful.

No one rained on her parade then. Except maybe Shelby in the very most back, smiling as her daughter sang. Rachel cut her out, focusing on the ones who had been with her since as far back she remembered. She had never sung with so much power and passion before.

Her leather jacket fit snug but not too tight. Using leather wasn't much to protect them. A wolf could penetrate through it just as easily as they could flesh. The only thing the hunters got out of it if a wolf took a chunk of the fabric was that the wolfsbane that they covered it with would make the wolf sick. Not enough to kill them like silver, but enough to stunt the change, make them weak enough to catch them.

Brittany's zippers jingled as she flitted into Rachel's room. Her blue eyes were ablaze that cool gray and her grin held too sharp canines. Rachel frowned but quickly washed it off. Too many more changes to deal with.

Her heightened senses of hearing and smell were helpful. They way she could see easily in the dark and was now almost fast enough on two legs to keep up with their target were helpful. The teeth and the way she saw Brittany occasionally clench her fist, palms showing red pricks from her nails in her palms worried her.

"Why are you so happy?" Rachel asked. The past few days Brittany had been looking like she was in the beginning stages of the flu.

"We're going out," Brittany answered, tugging down the strings of her beanie so the flaps pushed down snug over her ears.

"Yes, but that's nothing new."

"It is new," Brittany took the zipper of Rachel's jacket and yanked it up to the neck.

She batted her hand away, pulling it back down to her stomach and snatched up her gun holster, buckling it around her waste. Brittany turned away from her to look in the mirror. The sheath of two long blades sat crisscrossed on her back, and her gun hardly used hung off one hip.

So maybe Brittany was right. It was new. New in the sense it hadn't been like this in a while. New in a way that they actually had something the size of a small pack instead of the random rouge or runner to deal with. Rachel hardly expected Brittany to be as cheery as she used to be before the changes really started to happen and she thought the bite hadn't affected her at all.

Out of them all, Brittany was always the peppiest of them about an assignment. It was nice to have her back knowing she was running at her side with spring back into her step.

There was a honk from outside but Brittany was already telling Rachel Finn had arrived before the horn even sounded having heard the engine roar into the lot of the apartment.

Snatching up the belt of knives, Rachel followed Brittany out the door and into Finn's truck. She sat between them, chewing on her bottom lip to keep herself from grinning as they drove. Brittany didn't hide it and Finn's eyes were set and his jaw was tight and ready.

They bypassed the station, pulling up to Keller's Wood. Jesse and Mike were already there, standing at the van. Mike's police uniform was gone, replaced with the dark grays and midnight blues that belonged to the disbanded Findlay hunters. His shiny, polished black boots gleamed off the moonlight. Rachel glared down at them. If light bounced off them into any wolf's eye, they'd be given away like that.

"About time you showed up," grumbled Jesse but not annoyed. He wiped down the barrel of his rifle, holding it in his hands like it was a first place trophy. A bandoleer was slung across his chest gleaming with bullets.

Finn's face skewed up tighter. "What are you doing with those bullets? Chang wants them alive, remember?"

"Relax, Hudson," he loaded a few into the rifle, closing it with a clink. "No silver," he flung open the back of the van to show boxes. "You all better load up with these. And, Rachel," She snapped her head away from the rounds of bullets. "Don't aim straight,"

She smirked, rolling her eyes and joined Brittany to load up. Brittany was their best tracker, the best with a knife. Finn was easily the best at brute force if it came down to wrestling at the jaws of a wolf. Jesse and his snipe that only just skimmed past the vital parts so one would suffer was just too deadly. But Rachel's aim was just as precise as her perfect pitch.

"Six wolves," said Jesse, falling into the driver seat of the van where he broke out a map.

"We're out numbered," Rachel looked at it upside down in his hand while Finn peered over his shoulder. Brittany and Mike stood off a ways, talking low.

"They're all basket cases," Jesse pointed out because it was probably true. "It's a shame, really. They'd been better off killed to begin with."

It was the first Rachel heard it in Jesse's voice the disapproving tone at any brutal treatment of wolves. She knew Finn hated it and Brittany had become squeamish on some occasions. But Jesse was different and even Rachel was a little hard to crack sometimes.

"Why's Chang want them alive anyway?" asked Finn. His cheeks were red from cold. Rachel reached up, tugging up the scarf on his neck so it at least covered his chin. He thanked her with a smile.

Jesse coughed out a laugh, flashlight shaking over the map as he did. "Why else?"

"I bet you wish you were a part of that." he narrowed his eyes.

"Just as much as I enjoy freezing my ass waiting for a pack of mentally unstable wolves." He snapped back gracefully.

Rachel put her hand on Finn's chest to keep him from retorting, but the yelps that coasted through the air drew them all silent. Brittany was at her side in a second with Mike up on her left.

"They've just gotten close enough to us," she informed them. Mike nodded. Jesse cocked an eyebrow. "We should move,"

Jesse nodded sharply. "Chang, lead us out." He tossed the map into the truck, slamming the door and threw the rifle on his back.

"They'll always stay together," said Mike. "Don't split up unless we have to or they'll overpower you before you get a chance to shoot."

They all nodded, making formation around him. It was different with Mike. Usually Jesse would be at the front on times he was with them on big missions, with Rachel and Brittany flanking his sides and Finn close behind. Now Mike lead with Finn and Jesse to his right and left and the girls at the back.

Rachel was about to say that she and Brittany should stay to their normal positions, but she'd let the boys look like the ears for once with Mike being around.

The yelps grew louder as they moved deeper into the wood. Cold air whistled through the tops of trees, rustling the leaves, mixing the barks and crunching paws with the ghoulish sounds of night.

"They're loud," hissed Rachel.

"They're running," Mike said back. Running and running fast. Trying to get to Shelby's line as fast as they could before getting caught. Thinking they could outrun them.

No doubt they knew about Sue and her hunters. How small their numbers had gotten, how outsiders were forcing them slowly out of business. But if they thought they could outrun them, tear them down through the middle, they were wrong.

They were wrong because as soon as Brittany heard the snap of a branch a little too close for comfort, she had her blade drawn and hissed Rachel the signal to ready her gun and she cocked it without a thought.

One howled in time with the ring of Jesse's rifle.

Rachel couldn't see them. Not yet. But she could hear them. Hear the heavy urgency of their pursuit and the throaty pants leaving their throats. They moved together, like a true pack, their footsteps thundering as one.

"Rachel!" Brittany yanked the back of her jacket, whipping her around.

Her blade would do nothing at far range. Rachel pulled the trigger feeling the metal vibrate in her hand. It sent a sensation up her arm that busted in her chest, releasing the adrenaline she had been waiting for.

"Finn! Down!" It was Jesse's voice. He shoved Finn where he skidded onto the dirt. His rifle fired again.

"What're you doing?" Finn snarled.

"Get up!" There was no time to turn on each other.

"Stay together!" Mike ordered in such a commanding voice it startled Rachel. "They're headed straight for us!"

They were because Rachel could see them. Their eyes burned and their jaws were slack open, focused on the tiny group of hunters in the forest. They weren't like the others. They weren't even trying to evade them. Their mission was to trample them, get rid of the obstacle and get the hell away.

They went for Mike first, but he was just as quick as Brittany. He bounded away just as something a smoky gray lunged at him.

Finn fumbled back to his feet, taking up his own rifle, knocking the butt into the skull of another. There was a crack of either bone or rifle but that didn't matter. Finn's hands clutched a muzzle, fingers instantly splitting and bleeding.

Brittany snarled catching the scent of blood. A knife sang through the air, sinking into the wolf that had just taken a swipe at Finn's face. It whimpered, falling aside given Finn just enough time to shoot.

Rachel prayed it wasn't dead. She swore if-

Brittany yelled her name at the same time something smacked into her. The wind flew out of her lungs and she winced, hitting the ground hard. She struggled to draw in a breath and tell Brittany to stop coming to help her. But her nails were clawed and sharp and her eyes were blown full gray and her teeth bared to the point there was no mistaking what she was slowly becoming.

The weight on Rachel's back and the assault of what a claw had just done to her not yet fully healed scars was eased as Brittany charged into the beast.

Rachel rolled, eyes slowly losing the black fuzz that had come into them from lack of air. Two wolves had descended on Mike while Finn and Jesse were chasing one with silvery gray and blue fur around in a circle.

Claws came right at her face, but Rachel was quick enough to bring her arm around and sink a bullet blindly in front of her. The wolf choked and fell back and shuddered into skins leaving a red headed woman too thin and too pale to be healthy. Rachel cursed as she checked for pulse. Dead. She'd be hearing it from Sue in the morning.

If they made it to morning.

They were all fighting hard. Fighting against wolves trained in the force, held them at a slight disadvantage. They cornered Mike since they knew he was the most knowledgeable. They went for arms and wrist that held weapons.

Rachel's arm ached yet again from before but she'd fight through the pain and sprinted to Brittany who was tooth and claw with the same beast she had knocked off her. Teeth sank into Brittany's arm. She screamed, jamming the hilt of her knife into its skull. The crack she heard was skull and the thing fell over but didn't change. Still alive.

"Rachel! Move!" Jesse hollered.

Move? Rachel nearly scoffed as she cocked her gun, ready to shoot the one taking her boys on a chase when gray and white streaked across her vision.

She shot in time with Jesse tossing a silver blade, but his aim was at something Rachel couldn't see in the shadows. All she heard was a growl turn into a pained whimper.

"That was silver!" Finn yelled at him, pushing him sideways.

Jesse shoved him back, pointing his rifle at the silver and blue haired and shot it good in the hind leg crippling it again from its front injury. He buckled under the pain and fell down.

Rachel spun around, checking the territory around them. She found Brittany helping Mike to a stand and lean against a tree. Finn shot daggers into the side of Jesse's head while Jesse kept his rifle up, shifting it left and right.

Two human bodies lay out on the dirt dead. The other four were still in their furs. One out cold and another just heaving with stark blue eyes on them. The limp one whimpered but didn't try to get up.

"Is that all of-"

"No!" A voice rang out on the silence cutting off Rachel's voice. Heads snapped to each other but Rachel felt the blood in her veins run cold because she knew that voice. "No, no, no!"

She broke out into a run with Finn and Jesse behind her. The sob was harsh, tainting that smoky voice that made Rachel's stomach flip a little and her ears thirst for its richness.

"I thought there were only six," Jesse said behind her.

There were only six. Six of the Findlay runaways, but there were two other that Rachel had seen that hadn't ended up in the litter they had taken down. The one with the gray and white fur that had taken down the one that had lunged at her and then the one moving in the shadows Jesse had thrown at.

"Oh, no," Rachel muttered, praying it wasn't them because why were they even there? They were across lines, deep into Lima and far from safety.

But as she broke through the trees and blood matted golden hair shined angelic even through the grime in the light, she knew it was them and her stomach plummeted twenty feet.

Molten golden eyes swiveled around to them. Sharp teeth bared in Quinn's jaws and she hissed through the blood that smeared her mouth. Jesse raised his rifle to shoot, but Finn knocked it down.

"You trying to kill her too?" He snapped.

"She's not one of them," Jesse said. They had seen all the faces of the trackers. "She's not one of the trackers."

"Shoot me," Quinn barked, her voice oddly distorted in a way like she had been screaming and her throat could no longer take it. "Shoot me! You've already killed her!"

Rachel's eyes snapped down to see the black mass of fur at Quinn's naked knees. She watched as it's side rose and fell a few times before bones started to crack and another human laid out, silver blade lying on the ground bloody from the bleeding mess in her thigh.

"Jesse!" It fell out of Rachel's mouth before she could control herself.

"What?" He snapped. "They're not one of the trackers. It doesn't matter."

Gold eyes fell on her then. Gold eyes that had been sincere in apology and unsettling every time she took her in. Eyes that would flicker to her and make Rachel draw in a breath at how intense they would look at her. Eyes that were pleading her to help them.

"What's going on?" Mike and Brittany came up behind them.

Rachel thought fast. She saw Jesse raising his rifle again and Finn was clamping down so hard on his tongue to keep from speaking out against him again.

"Wait!" Rachel stopped him. "Take them in, too."

"But-"

"But you killed those other two," Rachel blinked at Finn. "So what's Sue going to say if we only bring in four, huh?"

Jesse's gun hovered in the air. "She'll know,"

"Who cares?" Rachel said. Quinn was still boring into her as she continued. "A wolf is a wolf. She'll be just as happy with us bringing in these two for Chang. They'll have fun with anything we bring them."

The truth in her words brought Jesse's rifle down but the stabs Quinn's eyes were giving her were equivalent to a bullet in the chest. She blinked away, trying to shut them out but she could feel those daggers all on her skin even stronger than the injuries she had taken.

"Fine," Jesse spat, slinging his rifle back onto his shoulders. "Let's go,"


	7. Part VI

**Part VI**

Quinn woke with a start. She pushed herself off the concrete floor, body groaning in protest as she moved. Shelby's bed had spoiled her and the heat of Santana normally beside her had been even more. Now she shivered in clothes the hunters had thrown at her to put on and ached in every part of her body.

The other cells were quiet around her now. Quinn had pushed herself into a corner, holding her bloody hands over her ears to hold out the whimpers and cries and yelps of the others that chorused through the night.

They all looked so terrible, so beaten and worn. They didn't change back to skins and Quinn was glad for it. She saw the other two bodies, all thin and withered. If that's what they looked like, she didn't want to see it. She couldn't stomach the brutality that had fallen on them along with Santana bleeding out and losing to the poison.

She pulled herself over to the tiny cell cot, if anyone could call it that. It reminded Quinn of the cardboard box and fabric contraptions she and Santana use to put together.

But even those, Quinn had made sure there was some sort of cotton sweater tucked under them to provide comfort. Here, the thin sliver of a cushion laid across a metal spring ledge was hardly comfort. But it was better than the floor and Santana needed that extra layer.

Morning light filtered in through a high window. Beams coming into the other cells made more than enough murky light for Quinn's adjusted eyes to see. She clamored to her knees, kneeling over the raised bed where Santana lay. Quinn pulled back the blanket to assess the damage the knife wound had done.

The cloth wrapped around her thigh was soak through nearly black with blood. Quinn reached up, pressing the back of her hand to Santana's clammy forehead. She was worse, burning up with fever caused by the silver. Had Quinn not made herself sick, sucking as much as the poison out of the wound as she could, Santana would've been dead before they threw them in the back of the van.

Quinn hated herself for even wishing she would've just passed from the amount of pain she was in. The way her flesh sizzled and matted and coiled back from the wound was horrid. Santana did her best to hold down her sobs, but Quinn knew how much it hurt and none of the damn hunters cared. Not even Rachel looked at them like she hadn't just eaten dinner with them a couple weeks ago.

Quinn would never forget that look of betrayal when she made them to be substitutes for the deranged mutts they had killed. She wouldn't forget the cold and blank look Rachel gave when Quinn begged for something to ease Santana's pain. They'd go to the prison, Quinn didn't care, she just wanted Santana to stop writhing in agony.

She brushed hair back from Santana's face, each time her fingers burning hot on her skin in contrast to the frigid cell. Some time in the night Santana had fallen asleep, maybe from the spread of silver or from fatigue of hurting for hours, whichever, Quinn knew it was only a matter of time before her sleep became permanent.

The creak of a door opening and closing sounded from far off. Quinn couldn't tell who it was by the footsteps. Maybe Sue or maybe the one called St. James. The one who threw them into the tuck, splitting Santana's wound open more so her blood smeared all over the back and her scream was shrill enough to be heard by only the most sensitive of ears.

"Q?" Quinn snapped her eyes down to Santana's face. She didn't even appear to be awake but Quinn was certain it had been her voice. "Q?"

"Santana," she touched her face again and the lines in Santana's face eased. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit," she mouthed it, smile pulling on. It was for Quinn more than herself. As long as she was smiling, Santana would say, she was okay.

"You've got a fever,"

Santana nodded knowing. "How bad is it?"

"Not too bad,"

"Right,"

Quinn laughed through her wince. "Do you want some water?"

She nodded slowly. Quinn brushed her fingers over her cheek once more, frowning. For Santana to suck up her pride and be taken care of meant she was in tremendous pain. Even when she was injured in their journeys, she batted Quinn away and licked her wounds in silence.

"Hello?" Quinn called out. She could hear them pull out a chair. "Can we get some water? I know someone's out there! Hey!" A furry head rose up in the cell across from her. One eye blinked while the other stayed swollen and bloody shut. He whimpered, twitching the only two limbs that weren't injured.

A hand grabbed Quinn's arm. "Give it up," Santana forced out. Her raspy voice was dry and brittle. "They're not going to do it."

"If Shelby-"

"Do you see Shelby?" Her dark brown eyes even red rimmed and bloodshot looked angry. "We're dead,"

Quinn flexed her jaw, leaning her back against the cot, keeping a hand on Santana to feel her fever. Light grew brighter and brighter as the hours passed. No one came back, but footsteps told Quinn others had come.

She was curled next to Santana attempting to help ease an unbreakable fever when her ears perked at a familiar voice. She sat up, head cocked to the angry shrill of Shelby's voice up against Rachel's quick staccato and a cool male voice.

"It's alright, Ms. Corcoran," Jesse said, easily.

Quinn leaned up against the bars, seeing Jesse, Shelby and the top part of Rachel's head though the barred window of the door that sectioned off the cells from the offices. The wolf across from her brought his head back up, ears erect. More shuffles told her the others were awake up but stayed quiet, their throats were raw from yelling all night.

"We weren't aware they were with you," the bolt banged back. Shelby pushed past him. "I'm sure they're alright,"

"Alright?" Shelby came up to their cell, gasping at the sight of Quinn first.

These…rags, because Quinn didn't call them clothes, were stained with both her and Santana's blood that had just been wiped off her skin since they hadn't had the privilege of cleaning off. Flakes of it were under her nails and in her hair, clotted and matted with dirt. Her hands were red raw just like her stinging feet. But it was Santana that made Shelby cover her mouth in horror.

The cot where her leg was lying was crimson and her skin was pale even from being tan, she was pale and the bloodshot color of the whites of her eyes was just as saturated as the orange her eyes shined under the moon.

"Shelby," Quinn reached out, grabbing her extended hand. She hadn't been more grateful to see a human in her life. Shelby squeezed her fingers and Quinn almost broke down

"You call this alright?" she snapped back to Jesse. He merely shrugged while Rachel chewed the inside of her cheek silently standing behind him. "How bad are you hurt?" Shelby asked.

"Just sore," Quinn said. What hurt on her didn't matter. "Santana's been stabbed. I did what I could to stop the silver from spreading but she's been burning up since last night."

"She's hanging on?" Quinn nodded, looking back. Santana's eyes opened then closed, struggling. "I'll get you out of here and we'll take her to a doctor I know that can help." She walked away, stopping in front of Rachel. Under Shelby's forceful glare, Rachel looked like a little girl with her big sorry brown eyes.

"I didn't know she was-"

"I'm disappointed in you, Rachel," Shelby cut her off. Quinn saw Rachel cringe under her words. "What do I need to do to get them out?" she asked Jesse, leading them out of the cells.

Quinn sat back against the cot, watching Rachel slowly back her way up to the cell. Her hands curled around the bars, eyes downcast and lip between her teeth.

"I'm sorry," it was hardly even a whisper.

"Don't talk to me," Quinn pulled her knees up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. She could feel the bruises and scars on her skin from when she attacked that one wolf and tumbled.

Rachel winced. "I _am_ sorry, Quinn,"

"Why?" She snarled, feeling the blaze of her eyes as she looked up at Rachel. "We're just replacements, right? Going to turn us in now because you failed your own assignment?"

Rachel cringed at her growl. "Shelby is getting you out,"

"You would've still done it."

"No, Quinn, I-" Her knuckles turned white as she clutched the bars tighter. Quinn had half a mind to take a swipe with her nails and mangle her sad, pretty face. "You weren't supposed to be out there,"

She scoffed, holding her knees tighter. "That's your excuse?"

"If I hadn't been there, you'd both be dead!"

"One of us _is_ dying!"

"I'm sorry," Rachel squeezed out. Quinn looked up at her. She could tell Rachel was sorry, but she didn't want to accept it. She was too scared for Santana and too beat up and worn out to accept anything. "I really am sorry,"

"Right," she spat, looking away. "If you even cared you wouldn't even have to be apologizing."

"Quinn, please," she clutched the bars tighter. "I told Jesse that so he wouldn't shoot you."

"I'd rather he did shoot me."

"Quinn, no," hair fell into her face as she shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't talk to me,"

"Quinn-"

Jesse's entrance cut her off. Rachel pulled back from the bars so he could unlock the bolt of the cell. The door creaked open, bringing yelps and barks from the others but they were all ignored.

Quinn glared up at the two humans above her. The animal inside her raged just as strong as it had then. The desire to draw blood out of these two for what they did was so innate Quinn could taste the iron of it on her lips already.

"Unless you like it on that floor, I suggest you get up and get out before I change my mind and lock you back up."

The growl in Quinn's throat was low as she rose up, forcing herself from using the wall to help her steady herself. "Then you better get me a stretcher or something because I'm not leaving without her."

"I'll help," Rachel stepped forward.

"Don't touch her!" Had she been under the eye of her mother again, Quinn would've been ashamed of herself from breaking the rule and snapping like an uneducated wolf pup.

But her teeth shot out on their own and the vibration down her spine was at its peak, waiting for her to give her body the okay to change and to slaughter them. Especially Rachel.

Especially Rachel who she had saved, who she couldn't get out of her head on some nights, who seeped into her dreams and scent still lingered so strong in Shelby's she'd stop and take it in, getting lost in it and wondering what this draw was for her.

"Quinn, let me-"

Quinn's hand moved quick, going to swipe Rachel's outstretched one, but she was forced against the cement of the wall by Jesse's weight. It took her everything not to push him off and send him flying into the opposite wall for a snapped back and a cracked skull.

"What's going on?" Shelby yelled. Finn and Brittany were with her then. "Let her go,"

"She was about to attack Rachel," he said, lodging his forearm into Quinn's throat. Was that her growling like that?

"No she wasn't," muttered Rachel. "Let her go. Let them leave."

Quinn watched Rachel and Jesse walk off. It wasn't until they were gone that Brittany and Shelby helped Santana onto the rolling cart with a few cheap cot mattresses piled on to serve as a stretcher.

Finn offered assistance, but Quinn snarled at him and he left. Quinn held onto Santana's hand as she, Shelby, and that dang blonde with a bandaged arm wheeled her out.

Quinn watched the blonde carefully. She had gotten a good whiff of her and saw her in action long enough to know what she truly was. So she let Brittany help, hoping it made her sick to her stomach to see what they did to people like them.

The pasty tint in her cheeks when Santana cried out as they laid her a little too roughly in the backseat of the car was enough to satisfy Quinn. The broken look Rachel had as she watched them pull away should've had the same effect, but it felt wrong because Quinn knew.

Rachel had saved their life.

-/-/-/-

Mercedes and her dad were already outside and at the curb of the clinic when they pulled up. Quinn knew there was a doctor nearby with the last name Jones. She had seen his number amongst the list of important numbers tacked with a magnet to Shelby's fridge. She hadn't known the Jones was the father to Mercedes though.

"Oh, good Lord," Mercedes breathed upon seeing Santana's leg. It had started bleeding again, wetting the sheets and getting onto the backseat. "Daddy, we're gonna need some help."

It took the four of them plus some other doctors before they got Santana inside and into a room marked critical over the door.

Quinn demanded that she be in with her, but Shelby talked her out of it saying that Dr. Jones was the best doctor of wolves then she'd seen even in the south. So she sat on the raised bed letting a nurse look her over and clean up her scraps and bruises before sending her to the waiting room.

The clinic wasn't anything big. It was expected since it helped wolves openly. It was just a small building with a couple rooms and a waiting area that had a tiny TV and a set of blocks for little children to busy themselves with. Regardless, it was clean and didn't smell so much like cleaner like a hospital and was better stocked than some of the places Quinn had stumbled into in other parts of the state.

"Here," Mercedes held out a Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee to her.

Quinn took it even though she wasn't big on coffee. The cream never settled well with her stomach because of the wolf. But it was black and only tasted of _Splenda_ and not a trace of creamer. Maybe Mercedes knew how it affected them.

"I'm not a doctor," Mercedes said, sitting beside her. "But I help out down here every once in a while since not so many folks want to be bothered with helping wolves and my dad sees a lot of them. I was just about to head out when we got the call from Shelby." She took a beat. Quinn sipped at the coffee waiting for the question and sighed when Mercedes finally asked, "What happened?"

She had no alternative but to tell. Shelby stood up at the front counter, signing sheet after sheet of paper and looking disheveled as she did so. So Quinn spilled the run in with the hunters, keeping to herself with part about Puck helping them out and how Santana warned them not to do it.

"You know, he probably is already dead." Mercedes said after she explained it was all for Sam.

Quinn felt the lump shoot back into her throat. She had thought about it and Santana hinted at it often, but no one actually said it so straight and Quinn wasn't ready to accept it. Not when the only other person she trusted was lying near gone on a table being worked on by hands she could do nothing but trust.

"You never know,"

Mercedes shrugged. "Don't be dumb and go running into something like that. You're lucky Rachel was there and I don't even like the girl."

Quinn sneered at that, feeling her chapped lips split because of it. She sipped at the coffee again only to find her cup was empty. Mercedes took it from her to go refill it even though she was full and it wasn't settling with her empty stomach.

Shelby finally peeled away from the counter to join her in a chair. "The paper work is ridiculous," She sighed, crossing one leg over the other. "If you two were residents maybe it would've easier,"

"Sorry," she said softly.

"Don't apologize. The system is still messed up and you're not to blame for _that_."

Quinn looked down at her hand and the coffee cup she was just handed. The way Shelby said that like everything that did happen was because of her. Her and her recklessness and not just trusting Shelby to work things out. But why would she?

Santana had been right. She couldn't trust her and she couldn't trust Rachel. She only trusted the Jones' because they could help Santana, but beyond that she didn't know them. She didn't know anyone but her pack and she wouldn't sit the hell around while Sam ran and hid for his life and they slept with heads on pillows and no worries.

Dr. Jones finally came from the back and Quinn was instantly on her feet. "How is she?"

He gave a smile. Good or bad, she didn't know. "She'll live. You flushed enough poison out so it stunted the spread but it still got to a lot of her major organs."

Her eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

"She'll be weak for a couple weeks until her body can recuperate from it. Unfortunately, we can't give her anything for the pain because werewolf blood rejects our medication."

"So she'll suffer more," her hands found her hips, lip pulling back slightly.

Dr. Jones grimaced, fumbling with the pens in his pocket. "The worst of the pain should ease after a week or so."

"Can we take her home?"

"In a few days," he answered. Quinn wanted to protest. Santana would hate it here. "Just to make sure her body is healing and won't fail and give in."

"Fine," she nodded. "But I'm staying here too,"

-/-/-/-

The apartment was dead quiet.

Rachel's phone remained off, ignoring the phone calls from Finn of him asking her if she was okay. She wasn't and he didn't make it better for taking the fall with the two dead wolves. Even if Mr. Chang didn't care since he still had four others to take back and bleed slowly to death. Sue cared and Sue put him on probation for two weeks.

So maybe Rachel was a tad thankful. If she had confessed, probation wouldn't have been an option.

Her phone stayed turned silent as she stood at her room window, staring out into the gray skies and the freezing winter. The roads were sleek and wet from a shower of sleet and rain the previous night. She shivered just thinking about having to patrol once night came.

The springs in her bed gave a creak. Rachel whipped around. Light eyebrows rose over blue eyes at her until Rachel relaxed. Brittany patted the empty space on the mattress beside her, beckoning Rachel to come.

Rachel climbed up next to her, being mindful of her arm still wrapped in white bandages from shoulder to elbow. With the other hand, Brittany's nailed picked at the itchy skin underneath. From when Rachel helped her clean the wound, she knew it was healing and healing fast.

The second bite had sped up what Brittany's body was already undertaking. They didn't show Sue the wound. Brittany had dragged her clawed nails across them to make them look more like a claw mark rather than a bite but it was no use.

Brittany was pale, so very pale and her eyes were glossy and cloudy and she hardly ate. Her being in Rachel's room, cuddling up to her and comforting her was for Rachel. Because Brittany hated to see Rachel sulking and bothered and distraught even if she wasn't sure as to why exactly. Rachel was hurting. She'd forget her own troubles for that.

"How are you feeling?" Rachel asked. Brittany had her face buried in Rachel's neck, arms hooked around Rachel's, holding her in place. The heat from her pale skin was like fire against Rachel's pulse. "You're hot, you know?"

Rachel felt her grin against her skin. "Oh, I know I am,"

Rachel cracked a smile. Brittany's grin widened, placing a quick peck of a kiss on Rachel's cheek. "You know what I mean. How are you feeling?" Brittany went stiff next to her. Stiff and rigid the same way Rachel had seen her do when she was fixing dinner. She had just stopped, clutching the edge of the counter with teeth gritted and eyes closed.

"Tired," she finally said. Rachel could see it in the dark circles around her eyes. "Are you okay?" Brittany asked. "Finn told me to ask."

"Of course he did," she rolled her eyes. Brittany nudged her with her knee when she didn't answer. "I'm fine, Brittany,"

"Are you?"

Rachel nodded then shrugged. She had been replaying the hunt over and over in her mind, always ending with that horrid look in Quinn's eyes that hadn't left her.

Seeing Quinn sitting there, hovering over Santana's body like that reminded Rachel of Hiram. Of his very last hunt when Rachel had doubled back at the end to find him. She had lost the sound of his boots early in but she didn't have time to investigate it. Maybe if she had, she would've been able to save him. But what Rachel found made her keel over and retch onto the forest floor.

She pinched her eyes shut, but the image only became more pronounced. Her dad sprawled in the dirt with his insides trailing out of his body all bloody and pink and red and white. His face still held the expression of horror on the verge of a scream.

She shuddered where she lay, heart sinking and stomach dropping. She would never forget that feeling of falling into oblivion at the sight of him. With Leroy she hadn't seen, but the emptiness was there and always would be. With Hiram she would forever be haunted with his death. Always something that loomed over her every hunt and every night.

It loomed over her like the picture of Quinn.

That look in those burning gold eyes at the thought her friend was gone. Rachel could almost feel her pain when she had screamed for Jesse to shoot her. Rachel understood. She had wished a wolf came back around and took her. It would've felt better to die beside the one and only thing you still had left to cling into instead of going on living with that bleeding place forever in your heart.

"Rachel?"

"I'm fine, Brittany,"

"I'm happy you're still with us," she said. Rachel shifted to look at her but Brittany's eyes were closed. "I know you didn't want Finn to take the blame, but Sue would've taken your silvers for good."

The star felt like a weight on her neck. She had been ready to hand it over when Sue sat them down after Shelby left with Quinn and Santana. She was ready for it. But Finn opened his mouth before she could and he shot her a look to keep her lips zipped.

"Is that so, Hudson?" Sue had eyed the four of them. Jesse just looked down right miffed and Brittany was at her side grimacing every time Finn moved and his body hit her arm. "It was you? Is that the truth?"

"It was either that or us," He nodded. Rachel saw Sue's cold eyes flicker to her. She didn't believe him, but she went on and accepted it, took his watch and weapons as collateral and sent them on their way.

Rachel sighed, "Maybe she should've,"

"Don't say that," Brittany frowned, eyes opening. "I like you more."

Rachel laughed, softly. "I'll remember to remind you of that when you decide to flank Finn without me."

"That was one time," Brittany poked her in the side. Rachel wiggled away from her, but Brittany quickly tugged her close again. Rachel allowed herself to relax into her heat. She wished they'd thrown back the covers and gotten underneath. The apartment was freezing. "Why did you cover for them?" Brittany asked, suddenly.

Rachel looked away to stare at the popcorn ceiling. "They belonged to Shelby,"

"Then they were safe,"

Rachel shook her head. "Even so, they were still across the lines which means, by law, that we are to shoot them on the spot.

"So why didn't you let Jesse?" Brittany asked. "You always would."

"Because they-" she paused. Because she just couldn't. She couldn't let that happen. "Because," she started again, "Sue threatened to take my silvers if I killed another one of Shelby's wolves. We are very near losing the right to be hunters in Lima and I was very well certain that, had Shelby known what we'd done, our side would lose."

"She saved you," Brittany's eyes closed and her breathing was quick and ragged but she didn't make a show that anything hurt. "Quinn,"

She knew. Rachel knew.

Of course she knew and it still didn't make sense to her why she did it. She had been ready to take the shot and Jesse would've been too if he hadn't been distracted by Santana.

But Quinn had leaped and the wolf coming for her was floored under that big gray and white furry body. Teeth tore into flesh and fur and paws ripped at muzzles. Had Rachel not needed to shoot again, she would've stopped and stared and watched, letting the bafflement continue on.

Blue eyes finally opened but they weren't exactly blue. Flakes of gray took over her irises and the veins in the whites of them were redder and more pronounced than before.

Rachel pressed her hand to Brittany's forehead. "Brittany, you're-"

"Go see her," she cut in, prying Rachel's hand away. She held it between them. "Make sure she's okay,"

"I should take you to the doctor,"

Brittany shook her head. "Go see Quinn. See if she's okay." She repeated.

"Brittany…" Rachel protested. Rachel had already tried calling.

She had let two days pass before she phoned Shelby. Quinn wasn't around, still at the clinic with Santana. Rachel's heart dropped at that. Even if Santana openly hated her and would probably murder her were she caught in a back alley, it still hurt. Santana was important to Quinn and Quinn…Rachel wasn't so sure on why she really cared so much. But she did know.

A week went and Rachel tried again. Quinn answered, heard it was Rachel and immediately hung up. Rachel hadn't tried again since.

"She doesn't want to see me,"

"You're making excuses,"

"And you're trying to avoid talking about what's wrong with you." Rachel tugged her hand out of Brittany's hold, sitting up. She noted the purple and blue marks around her wrist where her bracelet used to be. "It won't be long will it?"

Brittany forced on her happiest face. "I'm okay,"

"Brittany," her fingers smoothed over the discolored flesh. It looked like a bruise but it felt like a burn, filled with pus and glossy. She pressed down and Brittany grimaced.

Rachel didn't know everything about it. She just knew that werewolf bites often times resulted in a human changing. There were rare occasions when it didn't. There were also times if a human was treated soon enough, they'd only get a few side effects. But the poisoning of silver only happened to a true wolf.

"If silver is already starting to hurt you-"

"Rachel," Brittany sat up in front of her. She drew her fingers off her wrist, tugging on her fingers to follow. "I'm okay," Brittany jumped off the bed, dragging Rachel with her. "Come on,"

"Where are we going?"

"To see Quinn,"

-/-/-/-

When they arrived, Shelby was already opening the door, ready to leave. She took a long glance at Rachel, the disappointment and anger still molded onto her face. Rachel didn't understand why she was more upset when her two foster wolves were alive than she was about the murder of Julian.

But Rachel had seen the look in Shelby's eyes when she came to down to the station. Quinn and Santana weren't just two wolves to her. She had grown soft for them. It pricked envy in Rachel's stomach that she quickly dismissed. She had been the one that turned down Shelby's offer to reconcile.

"I'm here to speak with Quinn," said Rachel.

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea." Shelby snapped the button on the cuff of her glove closed.

Rachel sighed. "Then will you tell me how Santana is doing?"

"Well," Shelby's lips pursed as she deadpanned, "her heart is still beating."

"Hey, Ms. C," Brittany smiled, skipping her way up from the car.

"Brittany?" Shelby looked surprised, watching the blonde come up behind Rachel.

For a moment, Rachel saw high school Brittany. The one who always came to pick Rachel up with smiles and waves and would hug Shelby like she wasn't the enemy. Rachel would yank her away, wanting to snatch the cinnamon roll Shelby gave her and toss it into the dirt and tell her to stop.

But Brittany could never hate anyone. Sometimes Rachel questioned why she was even a hunter. It just didn't seem right for a girl so fun and bubbly to wear black and wield a machete the way Brittany did. Then again, Rachel looked like a little girl dressed up for Halloween every time she wore the gear and there was that one wolf who actually laughed -_ laughed – _when she aimed a gun at him.

"How are you, Brittany?" Rachel watched Shelby's careful eyes examine her. They took in her sunken cheeks and pallid skin. The way her eyes didn't open fully how they use to.

"I'm okay."

"Can we come in?" Rachel pressed. Shelby stared down at her. "Please. I only want to say I'm sorry."

"Very well," Shelby swung the door open. "Brittany, will you help me with something in the kitchen?"

Nodding, Brittany slipped inside, leaving them in the entryway. Shelby pulled the door tight behind her and shrugged off her coat. "Does Sue know?" Shelby whispered. "About Brittany." She clarified.

Rachel shook her head. "No,"

Shelby let a long breath of air. "How long ago?"

"It's…" she paused, hearing Quinn's light laugh flutter through the house. Santana's dark voice followed after. "It's been a while."

"I wish you'd brought her to me sooner," Shelby said, annoyed. Rachel held her tongue. She had never intended anyone finding out about Brittany let alone her mother.

Shelby left her standing in the entryway. Rachel stood still, listening a while longer to the girls talk from the living room. There was a short lull in Quinn's voice like she had forgotten what it was she was saying but quickly started up again, voice tighter.

Rachel caught the shift in tone. She was stupid to think Quinn couldn't smell her or she hadn't heard them from outside.

Rachel walked into the living room. Quinn's back was to her, sitting in the recliner. Santana lay on the couch under a fleece blanket. Her dark eyes glared up at her.

"What are you doing here?" Santana snapped. Quinn slowly turned to look at her. There was nothing in her face to tell Rachel if she were angry or not. "I don't want her within ten feet of me."

Rachel took one last step forward before she stopped, smoothing out the front of her coat. "I came to apologize,"

"I'm sure you felt real sorry when we were getting thrown into the back of that damn van." Santana growled. Rachel saw the image of the black wolf cracking back into human. Rachel had thought she were dead. But when Santana's voice pierced the cold when Jesse tossed her in the back-

"Santana," Rachel started slowly, shaking that picture out of her brain. "I really am sorry and if there's anything I can do to help let me know."

"There is. Get the hell lost," Rachel cringed.

"S," Quinn snapped.

"No, Q," she pushed up, so her back leaned against the armrest. "Why are we even still here? We're leaving. We're packing up and we're leaving. I'm making the plans now since yours almost got us killed!"

Quinn's voice hardened. "What about Sam?"

"Sam's dead!" Quinn flinched, gazing over her shoulder at Rachel. "Face it, Q. And we're just sitting around here waiting for one of them," she shot her eyes to Rachel, "to do the same to us. I'm not going to let that happen."

"It won't happen," Rachel threw in.

"Bullshit," sharp teeth bared threateningly over at her. Rachel took a step back.

Quinn heaved, lip twitching. "Santana, she's trying to apologize."

Eyebrows shot up into Santana's hairline, betrayal on her pretty face. "You're taking her side?"

"No! I- Forget it," Quinn stood up from the recliner. She slammed down a cup next to an empty plate of food on the coffee table. "Rachel?"

"You're losing it, Quinn!" Santana shot.

Rachel hurried across the carpet, following Quinn up the stairs and down the hall. She shut the door behind them on Quinn's command, closing them in the room that Rachel had once called her own. Quinn moved towards the large window. The same window Rachel used to sit at and stare longingly out at the neighborhood.

Quinn leaned over, resting her hands on the windowsill. Rachel saw her eyes that luminous gold color that had stared back at her between the trees. They were bright, sparkling like the stars and rich just like the rock that sent so many people crazy on a rush for.

Her lids shut over them, chest rising and falling until it was calm. "I'm sorry about her," Quinn said after a moment.

"It was well deserved,"

"Rachel," again her name left Quinn's mouth in that gentle way. Her eyes fluttered open, again hazel and warm but not as heated as the golden blaze. "I'm sorry,"

"Why are you apologizing to me?"

"You did save my life," she said, tugging back the curtain. Rachel saw her reflection in the glass of the window and Quinn watching her. "I would never kill you, I want you to know that. But if Santana had died, that might've changed. She's all I have."

"I understand," said Rachel, believing Quinn's every word.

"In that cell," Quinn went on, her voice low. "All I could think about was how much she was hurting. I knew what you did for us, but I didn't care. I watched so many wolves die at the hands of hunters like you."

Rachel stared into the reflection of Quinn's eyes until she pulled up the window, revealing the dark night. The cold came in instantly chilling the room. Either Quinn didn't feel it or she was ignoring it but she stayed still, leaning against the window frame.

She seemed calm much the way she had been when Rachel first met her. But even then, Quinn's tension and anger was subdued until Rachel picked a chord and set her off. This time, she was calm, with the slightest rigidness in her shoulders from the argument.

"Why'd you do it?" Quinn asked. "Why'd you lie to them?"

The corner of Rachel's mouth tugged up. "You mean, why did I save your life?"

Quinn waited a beat as if she had rolled her eyes. "Yes,"

Rachel sat down on the edge of the bed. She smiled seeing a set of the same blankets Shelby had used when she lived there. Rachel would always come home some days to find the linen had been changed. No matter how much she hadn't slept in the bed, they would be changed.

When she looked up, Quinn was staring at her. "I didn't think repaying you for saving my life by ending your own would've been very cordial of me. And seeing as you told me to pull the trigger next time, not Jesse, I didn't see it fair."

She saw Quinn smirk. "You had your gun in hand,"

"Yes, well," Rachel cleared her throat, tucking hair behind her ear. "My arm was injured."

Quinn laughed gently. "I accept your apology but that doesn't mean I dislike you any less."

"That may be so but this time," Rachel smirked but it slipped off her face. "I'm not so certain I could still say the same about you." She said softly. "Or ever, rather,"

Quinn went still. A cold breeze blew in, blowing back her short blonde hair from her eyes. Bringing her head away, she looked at Rachel, watching her. Rachel caught the faint scratches on her right cheek and a long scar down the side of her neck. Even with the imperfections, she was still stunning.

Rachel looked away. Wolves weren't beautiful. Wolves were monsters just like her daddy taught her. Just like Sue instilled in them, and just like her nightmares made them up to be. Just like Quinn. But that wasn't true.

Flashes of peach skin bathed in moonlight and blotched with blood amongst the trees came into Rachel's mind. She hadn't paid much attention to the fact Quinn had been sitting there naked, growling at them. Now it crept back. Rachel felt her cheeks heat up.

"Thank you," Quinn whispered. Rachel hoped she took her red cheeks for her thanks. "I suppose you're really not that bad." She said, voice just hitting at sarcastic.

"You'll believe me when I say I haven't had many wolves tell me that before."

"How about none?"

"That would be more true,"

Quinn laughed that silvery laugh again. Raising a leg, she threw it over the windowsill straddling it. "Hunting ruined you."

"Maybe," Rachel shrugged, marveling the way the moonlight framed Quinn's profile. "But life as a hunter is all I have ever known and by doing it, I still feel like I have a part of my fathers in me and with me."

"So," Quinn looked at her. "You do this for them?"

"I never said I didn't enjoy it myself,"

"I could tell,"

Rachel narrowed her eyes at the sneer on Quinn's lips. "You of all should understand how invigorating a hunt can be."

"That's true, but I don't make a game out of it. We do it to survive," her hand waved around, mimicking the way the curtains moved in the breeze.

"We do it to survive," she crossed her arms. "Your kind kills us so we retaliate. It's the circle of life."

"What circle? We die and turn to dust. The end." Quinn prodded.

"So, you may be right," Rachel pursed her lips. Shrugging, Quinn pulled up her knee, hugging it to her body. "Who's Sam?"

Quinn went rigid, gaze dropping to the floor for a moment. She turned, resting her head on her knee looking out into the darkness. "No one,"

Rachel's eyebrow rose, head tilted. "From what I heard, it didn't sound like he was no one."

"If he's dead, then he is no one."

"I'm sorry,"

"Me too," Quinn lifted off the window, bringing the glass back down and locked it. She turned to face Rachel as she pulled the curtain shut.

She could see the matching sorrow in Quinn's eyes that Rachel felt on so many nights alone in her room. Of so many nights in Shelby's, curled up in the very bed she sat on just crying for her fathers.

"I was raised as a hunter. My fathers," Rachel started, swallowing the lump that came into her throat at the mention of them. "My fathers taught me everything that I know and I idolized them. By doing this, in a way, I still feel like they're with me."

She let out a tiny laugh, looking at her lap. She hardly realized Quinn moving to sit in the desk chair across from her. "A werewolf massacred my dad and that's how I found him. Lying there, ripped apart. The smell-" she choked, eyes pinching as she felt the bile rise up in her throat like it had that night. "From that night, I have wanted nothing more than to murder ever single one of you that I came in contact with. Because of what they did."

"So?"

"So," Rachel sat up, pushing hair back out of her face. "I never thought about how it affected you,"

"That's how things are,"

"Maybe so, but when I heard you screaming that night…" Rachel cringed. "I knew how it felt because that's how I felt after I lost my dad."

"Look at that," the sarcasm in Quinn's voice churned Rachel's stomach. "The hunter does have a heart."

Rachel snapped up her head to see Quinn in the chair. "So you're the only one to feel sorry?"

"What are you sorry for?"

"Have you not been listening to a thing I've said?"

"I have," Quinn's head tilted, her eyes taking in Rachel with that warm and gentle look that made Rachel squirm. That made her wonder what Quinn was thinking. "That's the first I've heard a hunter be so vulnerable with me."

Rachel huffed, shooting up to her feet. "If only you knew the things that have been going through my head about you since that hunt then you'd know exactly how vulnerable I can be with you." She snapped, hair whipping around in her face as she stormed for the door.

Her hand was on the knob, tugging it open when she heard Quinn ask, "Will you come by again?"

Rachel let the three inches she had pulled the door open click right back closed. "And why would I want to do that?"

"You aren't the only one with thoughts, you know," Rachel peered over her shoulder. Quinn was watching her with guarded eyes. "But it's more for Brittany. You should bring her if she wants to know what's happening."

"In that case," Rachel bit the inside of her cheek. "I may be back again. You know, for Brittany, since that is what you're going to pretend this offer is for."

Quinn turned to look at her, slight smirk tugging at her mouth. "Either that or you'll find Santana's teeth in your throat."

Rachel felt her body heat up. "I wouldn't count yourself safe from a silver bullet from Jesse either,"

"Just another risk I'm taking." Quinn said, laughing gently. "I didn't attack that wolf because I'm some sort of masochist."

"Who knows why you did it?"

"For the same reason you saved me and Santana,"

"Just you," Rachel admitted, drooping her eyes away from the smile Quinn was trying hard to keep from spreading "Santana only happens to come with the package." She paused. "Unfortunately,"

Quinn moved swiftly out of the chair, meeting Rachel at the door. She craned up her neck, trying to process how fast Quinn's wonderful laugh had faded to give way to the heavy seriousness that she was staring down into her with.

Rachel felt her throat bob as she swallowed. She couldn't help the way her body told her to flee. The way her right hand burned for her gun at the sight of Quinn's teeth that peeked from slightly parted lips. But then her eyes shifted upwards, losing her breath at hazel eyes that were flaked with bits of gold.

"I want to see you," Quinn whispered, her normally confident heir slipping enough to make Rachel draw in the breath she had just lost. "I shouldn't. I hate your kind, but I don't hate you."

"I believe- I believe I'd have to say the same for you," she stuttered, remembering the night on Shelby's porch.

When Rachel accepted the fact she couldn't pull a trigger on Quinn. Or the night of the hunt when she ran through the trees, following the echo of Quinn's pained scream as Santana lay in the dirt unconscious, and it hit Rachel that they were very much alike. Or now, when Quinn leaned down, making their eyes level and moved forward just enough so her breath brushed Rachel's cheek as she muttered,

"Come back,"

"For Brittany?"

She heard Quinn's lips part with her grin. Then her voice turned darker. "Come see me,"

Hunter's rules and laws and boundaries and warnings reeled through her head. No. She would not come again. She would not let whatever the swarm in her stomach press her on and start to ignore the teaching she had spent years working to master.

Rachel drew back, dropping her gaze from Quinn's and turned for the door. "I'll bring Brittany," she said, turning the knob.

She walked out, only glancing backwards just before she let the door shut completely. The haughty smirk on Quinn was enough to make her heart sing like a wolf cry to the moon.


	8. Part VII

**Part VII**

"What are you doing here?" Quinn smirked at Rachel's fluster. "You're not supposed to be here."

"So are you going to let me in or not?"

Rachel leaned her head out the door before she took hold of Quinn's coat and yanked. Quinn fell clumsily into the apartment, cringing as the door slammed behind her and locked both the dead bolt and the lock in the knob.

Quinn's eyes scanned the apartment. It was nice, small but spacious enough. The furniture was all shades of browns and blacks and gold. It held a dreariness to it that made Quinn feel more threatened than it did make her feel calm and neutral like the earth tones were supposed to do. Maybe that was because she could smell the silver of weapons and the unmistakable stench of wolfsbane in the air.

She padded across the carpet, eyeing all of the photographs that were everywhere. Regardless of the darkness of it, it did feel like a home and that was a feeling Quinn hadn't felt in years.

Not even the one time her and Santana broke into a vacant apartment had it felt remotely like home. Quinn did her best trying to distract from the barren walls and the absence of any life by skinning a recent kill at the counter and serving it on some paper plates she had found in a cabinet.

She and Santana curled up on the carpet in the bedroom under a wholly comforter she had tucked in a backpack and wished her one companion goodnight like the humans did before they slept.

"Quinn, why are you here? How'd you find me?" Quinn tapped her nose. "Honestly,"

"Your name isn't hard to track,"

Rachel gaped. "You asked people and no one was suspicious?"

"You're all blind and dumb," Quinn sighed, "when you see a pretty face, you don't suspect a thing."

"How clever of you," Rachel deadpanned. "Did you bat your lashes as well?"

"It worked on you didn't it?" Quinn laughed, running her finger along a cheerleading trophy. _Brittany S. Pierce_ was on the gold nameplate at the bottom. "How's your friend?"

"She's okay. She's sleeping," said Rachel. Quinn could see the red in her cheeks just barely fading. Rachel raised a silver charm bracelet. "I had to take this off her again. At first it barely did anything to her skin, but now it looks like something has been gnawing on her wrist."

"How sick is she?"

"She won't let me check,"

Quinn remembered back to the day at the station. How she was happy for the grief in Brittany's eyes when she saw Santana in pain. She hadn't realized Brittany wasn't already changed then and Quinn wouldn't wish that on anyone human.

Years of cracking bones and splitting flesh was how Quinn had lived. It was painful in the beginning, painful to the point many blacked out the first couple times. But the change was embedded in their genes, it was a part of them unlike the humans.

Never bite a human was at the top of Russell's rules right before feigning human that sat just above only attack out of self-defense and only if necessary. It was a general law across the board, unspoken but always known though many ignored it just like the ones who impregnated human women.

It was a terrible transition. One full of fevers and sickness and feeling like the body was coming apart at the seams. Quinn had never felt it but Sam had. Sam and all his family had been changed by some sick wolf who wanted to turn half a neighborhood into his pack to fight off hunters. He had described to her how it felt. Him only being about eight at the time, it was a wonder he survived.

He told her how the skin started to split, unaccustomed to the breaking and stretching of bones. How the pressure of his skull caving in on his brain had been enough to make him vomit. How he woke up the next day in a pool of his own blood and every fiber of his being felt like it was shattered glass.

"She'll survive," said Rachel, but something in her voice told Quinn that she might doubt that. Whatever Shelby told them when they had come over another time after the first must've dampened Rachel's spirits. "She was first bitten when she was ten," Rachel turned on her.

Quinn furrowed her brow. "Ten? She's just changing now?"

"She was starting to. Little by little over the years but it hadn't been that bad of a bite then. She was bitten that night of the hunt and…"

"She'll be fine,"

"But Shelby said-"

"Shelby is only human,"

"I suppose you would have more knowledge on the subject," said Rachel. She picked up a mug and closed a book that lay open on her couch. "So why are you here?"

Quinn sank down onto the cushion of the couch. She just wanted to be. Rachel and Brittany had become frequent guests at Shelby's.

Quinn and Rachel would stick around, listening to Shelby explain things to Brittany while Santana would snap and correct her knowledge. But soon she and Rachel drew away, ending up in her room or in the backyard or out on the porch. Some days Quinn would lead them off and other times Rachel.

"You could at least shower afterwards. We do happen to share a bed." Santana would shoot at her, as they'd hunker down into bed well past midnight and the hour going on two. "God, it's almost like I'm sleeping with her, Q. What have you been doing with her anyway?"

Quinn would shut her up quick, teasing her about the amount of time she spent encouraging Brittany that being a wolf wasn't all that bad. No one else heard it, but Quinn did. Their voices always low, well after Shelby was done with them and had retired into her room.

She shrugged, watching Rachel come back into the sitting area. "You always come to me. I figured I'd come to you." Quinn finished.

A shy smile spread on Rachel's face as she ducked her head. "I appreciate it, but you being here is dangerous."

"And it isn't for Brittany?" her eyebrow quirked.

Rachel huffed as she sat at the opposite end of the couch with a cup full of steaming tea. "Is there something that you need? Otherwise, I'd suggest you leave. It isn't that I don't enjoy your company, which I do," her cheeks lit up a slight pink that didn't go unnoticed by Quinn. "I'm only worried,"

Quinn smiled at her concern. "Come with me,"

"Excuse me?" the red deepened. Quinn had the urge to lick the ripe apple color right off.

"Tonight," she hesitated, trying to read Rachel's hot chocolate eyes. "I want you to come with me."

"With you where?"

"Somewhere,"

"You're not going to tell me where exactly?" Quinn shook her head. "Even if I wanted to, I have to patrol tonight. With Brittany officially out, I've had to pick up both of our duties,"

Quinn sighed. "You can just say no,"

"No!" Rachel cleared her throat, sipping at her tea to cover her outburst. "No, I want to. I want to go with you, Quinn."

"Really?"

"Yes," Rachel's phone buzzed. She hurried to answer it.

Quinn watched as Rachel got up, holding up a finger to her and walked away into another room to speak. Quinn sat back in the couch.

It wasn't right to feel the way that she felt about Rachel. But that draw was there and she couldn't ignore it. It wasn't right for Rachel to make her stop and stare the way Quinn always caught herself doing.

Imprinting was what some of the elders in her pack would talk about and tell the pups love stories of. Quinn knew for a fact it didn't very well exists. Quinn had watched her parents long enough and never did she hear the word imprint and they were very much in love. Being gone missing almost another full day after the full moon was evidence of that.

But Quinn felt it with Rachel, that fatal attraction. She was drawn to Rachel's hidden pain. The pain Rachel didn't conceal well when she watched Shelby talk and spend time with her and Santana while Rachel sat idly by. She was drawn to the sorrow she heard in Rachel's voice when she'd speak about her dads. However long ago it was, the wounds were fresh. Still fresh like Quinn felt her own having never honestly been able to grieve the loss of her family.

But mostly, Quinn was drawn to the uncharacteristic warmth that Rachel had in her eyes and in her voice. Something that no other hunter had or had any human looked at her with.

It was that warmth she heard when Rachel had spoken to her low and soft while she sat in that cell that made it harder for Quinn to hold anger towards her. Or when they were alone, with no other ears around. Rachel spoke to her all soft and her eyes were all warm and alert with all attention focused on Quinn.

Everything was wrong about it. Her smell was stuck in he house, keeping Quinn's mind on this hunter she had first thought of snapping the neck of but would now risk her own neck to save. That she did risk her own neck to save.

She still didn't know why she had and Santana asked her about a million times. All Quinn had was that she saw that wolf jump and her muscles reacted before those slobbering jaws could mall that precious face.

Quinn snapped her eyes up to see Rachel leaning out the door of her room. She held up another finger and Quinn smiled politely back.

But there were still times Rachel regarded her as an enemy and she wished she wouldn't. That bit of fear Quinn had fun playing with in the beginning hurt her to see. She just wanted it gone.

She wanted Rachel to look at her the way Quinn had started to see Rachel after the night Rachel had saved her life. The way she caught Rachel staring at her during some nights while they sat on the porch, watching the stars when she didn't think Quinn was aware.

Rachel walked back into the living room, storing her phone into the pocket of her tight, leather pants. "I have to go,"

She nodded, having caught the name Finn in her conversation.

"I'll see you tonight?" asked Quinn.

"Yes, you will see me tonight." Quinn quirked an eyebrow as she stood up. Rachel's eyes narrowed. "What? Is this some sort of date or something?"

It was Quinn's turn to fluster. "If that's what you want to call it,"

"Should I wear a dress?" Rachel joked. "Impress the parents?" Quinn had seen Rachel in a dress once and that was at the first dinner. Blacks and leather is all she came in there after. Quinn wasn't sure which one made her lick her lips more.

"As my stand in parent, I don't think a dress would make Santana like you."

"Not a problem. I can handle moody in laws," said Rachel, reaching for the knob at the same time Quinn reached.

She stopped, staring down into her eyes. Her scent filtered into Quinn's nose. Getting past the poison of silver and the wolfsbane, she could smell the perfume of her skin. Something of spice and spearmint. It was that smell Quinn would linger in the living room at Shelby's, reading a book until she could smell it no longer.

The smell that made Quinn want to snuggle into on some nights when they'd be up in the bedroom. Quinn would lie back on the pillow, while Rachel sat beside her, talking and asking questions. Quinn wanted so much to pull her down into her, curl her body around Rachel's and soak in her scent.

Rachel blinked away from her, voice dropping. "I- I really have to go. Finn, he- it sounded urgent."

"Come by Shelby's when you can," said Quinn, undoing the locks since Rachel's hand had fallen away from the knob. Quinn could still feel the warmth of where Rachel's fingers had brushed her knuckles. "Dress warm."

"I will," her eyes flicked up briefly and she smiled. "See you tonight,"

Quinn wavered at the door a moment before hurrying down the steps and took to the road. She took to the backstreets she had used to get to Rachel's apartment, tugging the hood of the jacket she was wearing beneath her coat up over her head.

She was just at the neighborhood on the Lima line when someone yelled at her.

"I can get you arrested you know?" the voice snapped, causing Quinn to stop. "For being across the lines."

Quinn turned to see Sugar leaning up against a police car parked out in front of a house. Quinn peered past her to see a boy in a wheelchair at the open door talking to two officers.

"Cops are right there," said Quinn, trying to remain unfazed. "Why don't you do it now?"

Sugar looked taken aback. She covered it up by crossing her arms and stood up straight. "You're not our concern right now. Next time, we will get you." Sugar threatened.

Quinn kept walking, pulling the scarf around her neck higher up to hide her face. She kept her eyes on Sugar, seeing the cop at the door turn the boy in the wheelchair around and cuff his hands.

Quinn waited until she was around the corner before she broke out into a run and sprinted her way back to Shelby's.

-/-/-/-

Rachel pulled up to the maintenance shop. She waved to some of the workers, before hurrying up the steps to Finn's loft. Finn's call had been vague. Asking her to come to his place immediately and tell no one else where she was going. It was odd, seeing as Finn's place was safe and no one would suspect a thing, but Rachel followed his instructions.

Her stomach dropped when she saw the door held ajar. Her hand was reaching down into her boot for the knife sheathed in leather when three heads turned around to look at her from across the room, instantly stopping her in her tracks.

"Speaking of the devil," said a voice that Rachel hadn't heard since post graduation. "Here's Satan's mistress herself."

"Kurt?" Rachel's mouth fell open, catching smirking blue eyes. "Kurt Hummel!" She raged, running for him and punched him square in the chest.

"I should've seen that coming." He winced as another pegged him in the same place.

"Kurt Hummel you jerk!" Her fist kept pounding away, tears springing to her eyes.

Standing up, he grabbed her wrists, holding them still as best he could. "I say we rewind this and you come in and welcome me back the right way. Flailing and hugs included."

Rachel sneered up at him, neck having to go back even farther than she remembered their senior year. "You don't deserve any of that."

"That's fine," Kurt tightened his grip on her wrists, bringing them down to her waist. "I'm going to hug you now," Rachel felt herself crack at her old catch phrase. She let her front crash into him, face full of tears falling into his chest.

"I hate you," she muttered into the sweet smells of his cologne. "I really hate you,"

"No more than I hate you," Kurt's laugh rumbled in his chest, vibrating Rachel's face.

She pulled back, wiping her face with a hand. She turned to Finn. "You could've told me he was here,"

"It was supposed to be a surprise," he shrugged, getting up from the table with a glass bottle of root beer. "Well, Kurt told me not to tell you just in case you'd, you know, come at him with knives or something."

"And I very well would have," Rachel sniffed. "What are you doing here?" she asked, glancing to the other boy still sitting at the table and smiling. "Who's this?"

Kurt followed her eyes to the warm chocolate pair. "This is…"

"Blaine Anderson," Blaine stood, extending a hand towards her.

"My boyfriend," said Kurt, then paused. "My, uh, werewolf boyfriend." Rachel shook his hand, lips forming an oh and eyebrows shooting up.

"It's good to finally meet you," he continued on, not letting that awkward fact hang too long in the silence. "Kurt use to tell me all about all of you."

"Use to?" She drew her hand back, falling into the chair Finn had been occupying across from the two boys. "When did we stop being such a hot topic?"

Kurt waved a hand, eyes rolling. "Always wanting to be the center of attention,"

"You never seemed to mind before,"

"On the contrary-"

"What are you doing back?" Finn broke in. Rachel looked up to see him leaning back against the sink counter. "Dude, we haven't seen you in, like, years."

Kurt shrugged, hands cupping around a cup of bought coffee. "I had to make sure my father wasn't eating himself into another heart attack and that Rachel hadn't gotten herself killed yet."

"Hey!" she pouted.

"Honestly," Kurt pursed his lips reminding Rachel of all those years in high school of bantering stabs and insulting speeches. "Out of you all, I didn't think you'd make it another year with your cockiness."

Rachel tossed her hair over her shoulder, sitting up taller and straighter in her chair. "That very cockiness has gotten me more kills than you could count up to."

"Now, now Rachel," he grimaced, gaze flickering to Blaine. "Don't make my boyfriend uncomfortable with all of your hunter talk."

She stiffened. "I'm sorry. I didn't- I'm sorry,"

"It's fine," said Blaine, running his hand across Kurt's back, where it ended draped across the back of his chair. "It took me half a year before I stopped sleeping with one eye open with Kurt."

"Wait," Finn drew in his eyebrows. "Didn't you go to Dalton?" He asked to Blaine.

Rachel studied him. There had been once when she and Finn had snuck to see him. They were quickly escorted off campus grounds and Kurt gave them both angry calls for almost getting him in detention. Rachel vaguely remembered the face from a Boy of The Month poster hanging in the trophy case in the front lobby of the school.

"Yeah," Blaine nodded. "Kurt and I were buddies then."

"More than buddies, actually,"

Blaine laughed. "Actually," He echoed and they both laughed together.

Rachel caught the tightening in Finn's jaw. "You know he can't be here."

Kurt shifted slightly in his seat making Blaine's arm fall from the back of his chair. "We won't tell," Rachel answered, staring Finn down.

"But, why are you here?" Finn pressed. "You left us,"

"Finn, not now," said Rachel.

He completely ignored her, hand clutching tighter around the bottle of soda. "You just up and left,"

Kurt straightened out in his seat. Rachel watched his face fall out of the joy it had, frown tugging the corners of his mouth as he looked back up to Finn. "Do you really think that Sylvester was going to let me date Blaine if she knew what he was? It was hard enough hiding the fact he was a werewolf from my dad until he practically forced it out of me."

Rachel's lashes fluttered as she blinked. "You never told me,"

"It was safer that way,"

"But we're bothers,"

"Finn," Rachel cut him off before the next stream of words could leave his mouth. "What Finn's trying to say is that he – _we_ – both found it extremely inconsiderate of you to just up and leave and drop out of communication with us. There was no telling what happened to you. We missed you."

"I understand," said Kurt. "And I realize I left you all in such a hurry, but there was no way I could stick around. Not with Blaine."

"Just blame me," Blaine said, attempting to lighten the tension. Rachel smiled for him, but Finn's scowl held the room at a cold temperature.

Whether it was all because of Kurt and his sudden return or the fact there was a werewolf in his kitchen, dating his stepbrother Rachel wasn't certain of. She wondered how Finn would react had he known she was spending most of her time with werewolves or rather one werewolf in particular. One that kept Rachel up at night, wondering and thinking endlessly about.

"I know how you all love it," Kurt continued. "But I just couldn't do it anymore and the only way I could get out was to leave. When I found Blaine, I realized how much I really did hate being a hunter."

"You still could've called," Finn muttered.

"I did-"

"And talked to me!" Finn stopped him. "Or Rachel or Brittany or someone. Then you just show up."

Kurt whipped around in his chair. "Pardon me, Finn, for wanting to see you all again. It was just as hard for me leaving as it was for you to deal with me skipping out of town."

"Well," Rachel smiled sadly at the two. She reached out a hand, clasping Kurt's hand in her fingers and squeezed "We're happy you're back, Kurt,"

"Thank you, Rachel," he squeezed back, smiling brightly at her. Rachel felt her heart warm. She had missed his face so much. "But as Finn said, Blaine can't be here and even having hunters for friends won't keep us safe."

"But you just got here," Rachel protested. "Can't you stay a while longer? Maybe we can get lunch."

"Are you trying to get us picked up?" Kurt laughed. "It was hard enough evading all those cops on your border lines."

"Cops?" Rachel questioned, eyeing Finn. He shrugged. "Where are you staying?"

"A motel at the west of the safe district."

"We'll take you," said Rachel, hurrying to her feet. "It'll be safer that way and we could do lunch at one of the places there. Maybe?"

"I don't see a problem with that," said Finn. "We can catch up."

Kurt hesitated but Rachel pouted and his resolve was lost. "As long as you're buying," Kurt winked.

Rachel beamed, clasping onto his arm as Finn led them out.

-/-/-/-

The night was freezing. Rachel tugged her gloves up to the cuffs of her jacket and wrapped her scarf securely around her neck and face. She stepped around the car, meeting Quinn who was only in jeans and a simple coat. Her eyebrow raised as Rachel clasped the last button of her jacket.

"If you weren't aware, it is nearly freezing out here."

Quinn smirked. "I hadn't noticed," Rachel rolled her eyes, hurrying to catch up with Quinn who was already walking towards the edge of the wood.

She walked a couple paces behind her, listening to the sounds of the woods. For years she had been taught how to read each sound, what they meant, where something or someone was. The silence of a hunter was key. Silent footsteps, controlled breathing, and a steady heart.

Right now Rachel felt like her steps were horribly loud and her breathing and heart noticeable to even the hooting owl in a nearby tree compared to how Quinn moved. She wasn't as liquid as Brittany. Her steps didn't have that gliding ease, but they had that gentle press. Like each one was precious and calculated.

They were deep in the trees. Deeper than Rachel thought she had ever gone, but she hadn't been paying as much attention to the route as she was the blonde in front of her.

Quinn took a couple more steps before she stopped. Rachel squinted through the darkness. The light of the moon and stars was just barely enough for her to make out the light peach tones of Quinn's face and her gentle hazel eyes. Eyes that seemed gentle even when she was angry. Eyes that were staring at Rachel a couple paces away from where she stood.

She got scared in that moment trapped underneath that gaze. It was then she realized she was deep in the woods, no weapon but her necklace on her. Her heart raced.

Quinn grinned as if she could hear the sudden pick up in her pulse. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you," she assured her softly. "Trust me,"

"And what if I don't?" Quinn took in a breath like she was going to respond but instead she shrugged. "Why are we out here?"

Quinn stepped away from her, hand pressing against a tree. She looked up into the branches. "Don't you want to know?"

"Know what?"

"Why I'm like this," her eyes flashed golden as she said it. Rachel felt a chill at seeing it.

She rubbed her hands together before stuffing them into her pockets. "I assumed you were bitten,"

"Of course you'd think that,"

"You were born this way?" Quinn nodded, moving again. Rachel watched her. "But you look so…."

"Human?" Quinn's head tilted. She took a step forward closing the distance between them. "You can thank my father. He thought that if we could pretend to be one, no one would know what we really were."

"Did it work?"

"For a while," Quinn undid the zipper of her jacket, pulling it off. "The hunters found out. We don't know how but they must've been watching and waiting. We lived in a village, you know," she said, condescendingly. "In real houses with running water."

Rachel pursed her lips. "Many do,"

"Here maybe," she only laughed, while laying her coat on the dirt. "But most prefer to dig out dens. It's safer to stay that way."

Rachel caught the doubt in Quinn's voice when she said it. Nothing was safer. "So what happened? How'd you end up with Shelby?"

"We were burned out. They came at night when we were all sleeping and just started lighting everything on fire. Santana and I just barely escaped. I was eighteen at the time."

Rachel counted the years. Four years. "And the others?"

Rachel had to turn to keep watching Quinn circling her. "Scattered. Most are dead like my parents, but a lot have gone into hiding, moved far south." She let out a sigh, her breath showing on the wind. "We've been running ever since."

"And Sam?" Quinn narrowed her eyes but nodded "Where is he?"

Quinn's eyes went hard, but the sadness that twisted the corners of them could not be unseen. "If I knew that, I wouldn't still be here,"

Rachel blinked. "You're not staying?"

"Don't sound so hurt," Quinn smirked, walking towards her. "You might give off the impression that you'll miss me."

"Miss you may be an overstatement," Rachel cursed her cheeks for betraying her tone. "But you are the first wolf I have talked at length with that hasn't threatened to kill me."

Quinn stopped right in front her. Close enough Rachel could feel the gentle puff of air with her breathing on her lips. "Are you sure you wouldn't miss me?"

"Wolves come and wolves go," she muttered, losing herself in those honey, colored eyes.

Quinn's head tilted, her grin lifting her lip just enough for Rachel to see the elongated canines there. "But none like me,"

"N-no," Rachel swallowed, licking her lips. "None like you, that is correct." Quinn laughed haughtily, stepping back from her and lifting her shirt over her head. Rachel watched, voice failing her to ask what Quinn was doing.

More of that light colored skin was revealed all smooth down long, powerful legs and lean arms, stretching over small but not too small shoulders and shrouding the faint lines of abs.

Rachel found her eyes moving along Quinn's body. Something of shock came over her as she did so. As If she had been expecting to see a tail at the base of her spine or the color of her fur painted on her skin.

Rachel swallowed, tracing every line with keen eyes. "Quinn, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Rachel was silent, letting her unclasp the button of her jeans and pull them off. With a kick, they flew into the pile with her shirt.

She brought her eyes up from where Quinn had her hand on the strap of her bra. It wasn't until then Rachel realized it had already been unclasped but not yet stripped away.

She shook herself out of her mute state finally realizing what it was Quinn was doing. "I don't think this is a good idea,"

"Why not?" she hesitated.

"Because I…" she looked down. She didn't have a reason.

"I'd rather not ruin my clothes."

"It isn't a good idea." Her voice was small. Quinn stood up straight. Rachel tried to keep her eyes from shifting down, but she couldn't help but eat up all that naked flesh. The strap of Quinn's bra slipped down her left shoulder.

"The full moon is in a few weeks," said Quinn.

Her voice was enough to bring Rachel's eyes back up. "So?"

"Don't you think you should be ready for when Brittany changes?"

"I hadn't thought about that," Quinn smiled, going to strip again. "But I don't- you don't have to do this. I've been around hundreds of wolves."

"Correction," Quinn said. "You've killed hundreds of wolves. Are you planning on shooting Brittany when she changes? She is in Lima, isn't she?"

Rachel's chest puffed up in offense. "I'd never do that," she snapped but then relaxed. She wasn't sure what she was going to do about Brittany.

They'd need to tell Sue soon. Or even if they didn't they'd have to come up with an excuse as to why Brittany would no longer be with them. That would be difficult. Brittany was one of their finest, one who never showed interest in leaving.

"Get use to being friends with us because the disgust you had on your face that night of the hunt was almost enough to make me want to claw your face."

Rachel gaped. "Brittany is not disgusting!"

"Neither am I," Quinn held Rachel's eyes as she slipped off each strap and let the garment fall with the rest of her clothes. She hooked her thumbs around the waste band of her underwear, tugging them off.

"Quinn," Rachel looked away.

"Look at me," said Quinn. Rachel shook her head. "Look at me, Rachel."

Her neck snapped up at the demand that crept into the sultry voice. Rachel bit down on her bottom lip. She couldn't help but smooth her eyes all over Quinn's milky skin. It spread so flawless and so smooth down her legs and over her arms. All across her back and stretching against tight abs. She looked so…human. So perfectly normal. So stunning and marvelous under the glow of the moon.

Rachel struggled for air, having lost it in the presence of Quinn again.

Quinn stepped back, arms out at her sides. "Look at me,"

And Rachel did. She let her eyes wash over Quinn's naked body so much like her own but not at all alike. There was no blood on her skin and her short hair was a glossy, corn silk color and straight framing her face.

She heard Quinn say it again, to look at her as she bent over, eyes pinching tight and arms pulling around her stomach like someone had punched her hard in the gut.

The hair at the base of her neck trailed down her spine, twisting and changing in color as it reached the base of her back and spun into furs that encased a tail. Bones popped a violent sound as her spine crunched and her knees and elbows cracked to accommodate for fours. Fist crumbled in, morphing into large paws with claws shining on each end.

Quinn let out a muffled groan as her face extended, teeth bared and shining in a silence scream as she grew a muzzle.

Her front paws hit the dirt hard as the final snap in her spine settled into place. Her eyes fluttered open glowing a molten gold in perfect contrast with her coat and array of gray shades from dark to light accompanied with the stark, snowy white.

Luminous eyes blinked and fur tipped ears rotated towards Rachel whose back was now against a tree, hand over her mouth and eyes wide.

Quinn blew air hard out of her nose. It was then Rachel realized she wasn't breathing. She took in a gasp of a breath, back pressing farther into the bark of the tree when Quinn took a step forward.

"Stop," she ordered, hand up and out. "Don't come any closer." Quinn's large head titled, eyes even in wolf form boring into her with extreme intensity. She took another step.

"I said stop!" A paw banged on the ground head shaking in annoyance. Rachel held her ground as Quinn came closer still. She walked slowly, eyes never leaving Rachel's.

Everything inside her told her to prepare herself. The hunter part of her told her she needed to calculate what could be used as a weapon, when the right moment to attack would be while another part of her told her to run. That she had no chance of living unless she ran.

But she was stuck with wood pressing uncomfortably into her back and golden eyes like warm, hazelnut coffee in the winter held her in place.

"That's close enough," she croaked once Quinn was so near she could see the light brown flakes of color in her eyes.

Quinn sat her hunches down, her head coming to the height just at Rachel's chest. Rachel stayed still, watching Quinn blink, nose inching closer and closer to her until they reached her hand that was pressed against her chest.

Her nose touched the back of her knuckles and Rachel flinched back. Quinn snorted, brow creasing in as much as it could to show her annoyance.

"Sorry," said Rachel.

She stretched out her arm, fingers hovering in the air letting Quinn lean in again and rest the top of her muzzle against Rachel's palm. She gasped once it rested there, curving with the bow of her hand. Soft, light fur pricked at the pads of her fingers and her cold nose brushed the heel of her hand.

Rachel could feel Quinn's hot breath blowing on her skin as she slid her hand farther up, running it up between her eyes and resting at the top of her head. She nearly smiled, thinking about how childish she looked. Like she was petting her Granddad's Great Dane when she was four and still a little afraid the thing would eat her.

Quinn pushed her head up, leaning into the touch. Rachel curved her nails, scratching gently. She watched Quinn's eyes soften, drooping the smallest bit before her mouth opened to let her tongue out. But before she could, the head beneath Rachel's hand was gone and the gray and white wolf stood ten feet away from her.

"What?" Rachel asked, hand still hovering in the air. "Did I do something wrong?"

Quinn's head shook but there was something in her eyes now. Embarrassment? Rachel bit back her smirk. Embarrassed that she had almost been caught enjoying her ears getting scratched by this blasted human. A hunter no less.

"If you say so,"

Quinn huffed, beating at the ground with her paws before she started to trot away. Rachel waited against the tree until Quinn's head appeared and she repeated the action, jerking her head to the side, and started off again.

Rachel eased herself away from her safety net, hurrying after the mass of fur. Once Quinn saw she was following, she started a slow run. Rachel kicked it up glad she had worn her boots that evening.

There was hardly any sound from Quinn's paws as she ran out in front of her. Rachel felt clumsy with her running. Her boots kept hitting branches and crunching on frozen ground so it echoed in the trees. She took deep breaths through her nose letting them out of her mouth until her throat ached.

Quinn split away from her out of sight only to appear on Rachel's side. She nipped at Rachel's leg making her squeal then ran off again, yelping what would've been a laugh.

"That's not funny, Quinn!" Rachel hollered. She didn't care if they were being loud. As deep in the trees as they were, no one would find them.

Rachel pushed herself faster, trying to catch the swaying gray tail in front of her. She knew Quinn wasn't running at full speed, but let Rachel catch up to run at her side. She panted next to Quinn, leaping over a fallen trunk and marveled at how easily Quinn cleared it while Rachel had to push her hand to make it over.

Rachel watched the wolf beside her. Quinn's tongue was out of her mouth, puffs of air drifting on the wind with each pant. She couldn't get over how strange it all was. How she was running beside this girl – this beast – instead of after her. She was pushing her muscles to stay caught up with Quinn instead of straining her muscles to get away, find a good place to hide and have her gun ready to shoot.

Gold eyes flickered up at her all wide and alive and scorching like the sun at magic hour all brilliant and beautiful and captivating. Rachel drew in a sharp breath, losing speed. She jogged to a halt, hands on her knees as she gasped for air.

Quinn howled a wondrous note that swarmed in Rachel's stomach and echoed long after she had ended it and darted off. Rachel's eyes followed the streak of gray and white weave through the trees. Quinn leaped, bounding every which way. She moved flawlessly through the brush, almost like a dance the way she navigated, coming up behind Rachel and brushing against her so close Rachel could feel the breeze as she went by.

In all her years, Rachel had never just watched. She had never had the chance to actually marvel at the creatures she put to death. And watching Quinn, Rachel wondered where the hunters, her fathers, and the others before them had come up with werewolves being monsters.

Because they weren't. At least Quinn wasn't. In her skin she was everything of a human and sickeningly flawless. Her legs and her arms just barely echoed the power that was in the furred ones she was running on now. Like a streak of lightening, she moved freely, soundlessly, perfectly. She was…beautiful.

Rachel gasped at the thought, her eyes losing Quinn for a moment only for the wolf to be right in front of her, paws coming up to press against her shoulders and bringing them onto the ground.

She hadn't even had the time to scream before the air was forced out of her and she fought for some kind of oxygen to draw back into her lungs. Golden eyes bore down on her.

"Get off!" Rachel wheezed. Her hands shot up into her fury chest, pushing. "Quinn!"

She beat against the stretched muscle of the wolf's chest. Hot, sticky breath blew down into her face from out of split open jaws. White teeth were angled down at her and large, clawed paws were pressed on either side of her head, pining her like a fresh kill.

Her heart raced. "Quinn, get off me!" she hollered again, but she didn't let up.

Rachel gave up, forcing herself to relax, to calm down. This was Quinn. Quinn had promised she would never hurt her. That she wasn't going to kill her. They were empty words to Rachel, but she'd believed Quinn. What else could she do? She was at the mercy of this wolf, unarmed and neck vulnerable and ready for those teeth above her.

"Quinn?" Rachel muttered. Her fingers were twisted in the fur of her chest, holding tightly.

Her brown eyes moved away from the slightly open mouth to look into Quinn's. They blinked once, the fervor in them from when they were running was still there, but they were tender, much like the hazel ones that somehow held Rachel at ease.

A freezing, damp nose lowered down, pressing against Rachel's chin. She shivered at the coldness of it, hands leaving Quinn's chest to run up her neck and smooth the fur there.

"I get it," Rachel said, softly. "You're not a monster," Quinn's brow twitched like she was raising an eyebrow. "You could never be and I honestly couldn't say I ever really thought that you were."

Her hands moved on their own accord, running nails against that soft, soft fur and just grazing the pale, pale pink skin beneath it. Quinn moved her muzzle, sliding it away from Rachel's chin to rub against her cheek before pulling away and pulling back.

Rachel sat up, shivering at the absence of the wolf above her. She looked left and right, trying to find Quinn but she was nowhere to be seen. She resisted the urge to call out to her. Not like she could. Rachel didn't think she could find her voice. She had lost it when she felt whiskers brush against her ear sending waves down her spine.

So she sat there, arms pulled tightly around her freezing body and ears straining for any sounds of Quinn. No way she would leave her. They had run so deep and in so many winding paths Rachel didn't think she could navigate her way back to the car.

Another minute past when Quinn showed up human once again and clothed with wind blow hair and eyes still glowing. She regarded Rachel hesitantly, moving slowly like she wasn't sure what Rachel would do to her. It was such a contrast from the wolf she had observed running wildly in circles around her.

"I thought you left me," said Rachel, pushing up from the ground.

The corner of Quinn's mouth tugged up. "It was a thought,"

There was a stiff silence between them accompanied by a strange sort of awkwardness that Rachel had never felt there before. Looking at Quinn's face, Rachel wondered if it was because she had felt it too. That burst of excitement to be running at each other's sides and that sense of perfect unity of it all. That warmth of being trapped in each other's gazes, with hands and muzzles touching and stroking flesh ever so lightly.

Rachel cleared her aching throat, straightening out the scarf tucked into the front of her coat. "Shall we go then?" she said, starting to walk. "Unless there are more exciting things you have planned for this date."

"We can go," she said, stiffly.

Quinn waited until Rachel was close enough before leading them away. They remained silent on the walk back. Rachel was still lost and disoriented until she caught the trickle of the river and she knew they weren't far from the car.

The drive was horribly painful in the quiet. A slight drizzle came down on the windshield, but Rachel refused to turn on the wipers as they pulled up to the curb in front of Shelby's.

"Thanks for the ride," said Quinn, going for the handle.

"Quinn," Rachel said with a bit too much urgency in her voice. Warm caramel colored eyes moved back to meet hers. "Thank you for tonight."

"I'm sorry I scared you," she slumped back against the seat. "I shouldn't have pounced like that."

"No. No, it was okay. I wasn't scared," Quinn narrowed her eyes, disbelieving. "Okay, well I may have been at first but I trusted you. I trust you."

"Oh?" said Quinn, brow lifting. "I think the hunter is forgetting where her allegiance lie."

"Well it isn't exactly smiled upon for hunters to go on dates with wolves, but there is a first time for everything and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy myself."

"I- I did too," Quinn stuttered.

"So thank you," Rachel's gaze dropped to her hands in her lap. "I really did enjoy myself and I don't think you're a monster. Quinn, you're…" she drew in a shaky breath, eyes moving back and forth from Quinn's as she spoke. "You're beautiful," And this time, Rachel heard Quinn take in a breath.

"I'm sorry about your family and everything. I know how it feels to lose everything like that so I hope you find Sam. And when you leave," Her eyes turned up to bore into Quinn's the way she always did to her. "I will miss you."

In the silence, Rachel could hear her pulse beating in her ears. She was sure Quinn could hear the smacking of her heat against her ribs. Rachel looked down into her lap, unable to stand the blank canvas of Quinn's face.

"Do you really mean that?" Quinn muttered, staring so strongly into her Rachel didn't think she'd be able to find her voice again.

"Yes," it came out just barely above a whisper. "I really mean that. All of it,"

Quinn was soundless as she popped open the door and climbed out. Rachel watched her bounce up the stairs to Shelby's porch. She wavered at the door, standing still for a moment before she ran back to the car and knocked on Rachel's window.

Rachel rolled it down. "Did you forget something?"

Quinn chewed her bottom lip, nervously. "I'm sorry for this, but a muzzle isn't exactly accommodating for these sort of things."

"What do you-" Rachel gasped, eyes wide as Quinn leaned in replacing the feeling of bristled fur she had felt there in the woods with the smooth press of puckered lips on her cheek.

"Thanks for running with me tonight," Quinn muttered just beside her ear.

A warm tingle shot through the nerves in her face and into her chest, jump starting her heart even quicker. Everything inside of her body was alive but on the outside she was frozen stiff, watching Quinn disappear behind the door and shut it tight.

-/-/-/-

Quinn hardly had time to relish in the delicious coursing of nervous nerves in her body when the musky smell of wolf mixed with that of alcohol picked at Quinn's nose.

She hurried into the living room where she found Santana and Shelby sitting with Puck on the couch. On the coffee table Quinn recognized Schuester's police radio.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Shelby sighed. "Will Schuester's been arrested," Quinn jumped from one face to the other until she landed on Santana's at the very end of the couch, eyes not able to hide the haze of excitement.

"What else?" Quinn demanded.

"They found him," said Santana.

Quinn turned to Puck, begging for confirmation. "We found Sam,"


	9. Part VIII

**Part VIII**

"What?"

"Schuester's been arrested," said Puck. He motioned to the police radio on the coffee table that had belonged to Will. "Someone tapped the line. I got this before they could, but I don't think it'll stop them from killing him."

"Kill him?" Quinn blanched.

"For smuggling werewolves," said Shelby, coming back into the living area with her phone. "That was Tina," she sank to the end of the couch. "She's scared because they picked up Artie but I don't think they know she was a part of the underground line as well."

Santana looked from Shelby to a nodding Puck. "Underground line?"

Shelby nodded. "When I started this place, Will and I created a group to help in smuggling wolves through Lima into the safe district. It was illegal and we lost more wolves than saved, but it was worth a try." She explained. "Tina was once a part of it and Dr. Jones was the one we sent a lot of the injured to."

"It shut down once Sue's laws got changed even more," said Puck. "But Schuester kept an open ear with some others."

Shelby sighed, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't know how they figured it out. We were so careful."

"It's because we found your friend," Puck shot a look to both Santana and Quinn. Santana's lip turned up at his accusation.

"You found Sam?" Quinn asked again, squeezing Santana's knee as she sat down between her and Shelby while Puck had moved to the recliner.

Puck nodded. "He called me up a week ago when he heard the wire say something about an Evans kid. Apparently they've been trying to find him in east Pennsylvania. Schue started making calls to some wolves he knows up there."

Quinn leaned forward, desperate to know everything. "And he found him?"

"He's safe," Puck said slowly, hand running over his mohawk. There was a nervous quake in his fingers. "But he's got a huge death sentence on his head." He said, scornfully.

Quinn ignored his tone. All she heard was Sam. They found Sam. Sam was safe. "Where is he?"

"Q," Santana groaned. "Do you not remember what happened last time we went off running to find his ass?" Quinn's eyes glanced down at Santana's leg that stretched out from shorts much too short for winter attire.

The skin where the knife had gone in was a nasty pink and swollen. Blue veins were raised to the surface around the wound, spider webbing away from it and spreading around her thigh.

Quinn's nail grazed over the bruised flesh, apologetically looking up into her dark eyes. "I do but this time we know where he is. We get him-" she stopped.

They found Sam. They found Sam and that meant they had to leave. Flashes of Rachel went though her mind. Quinn knew the time was coming but so soon? She had resigned herself into believing that Sam was dead, that they'd never see his face again and that maybe it was better that way.

That it would be weeks, months even, before Sam turned up. She had only hung onto the promise of leaving because Santana wanted it so bad. Because Santana said the logical things that Quinn refused to think. Not now with Rachel…

Quinn chewed on her lip, eyes widening slightly as Santana stared back into hers. Without Sam, they had no true reason to leave. Without Sam, Quinn didn't have to leave Rachel. Oh.

"We get him," Santana picked up, watching her carefully. "We go,"

"Right," Quinn nodded, lip worried between her teeth. "We get him, we go."

"Really?" asked Santana questioningly but this time Quinn heard a flicker of reluctance in even Santana's voice. She blinked and it was gone, gaze hard. "You're ready this time?"

Nodding slowly, Quinn looked away from her to Puck. "Where is he?"

"He's with some wolves," He dropped down a sheet of paper with an address. "Got this from Schue right before the cops showed." It was in Ohio, far west of where they were but inside the safe district.

"That's close," she said, reading the name of the motel again just to be sure. "Can they bring him to us?"

"Too risky," said Shelby. She had her phone, thumbs working rapidly at a text. She placed it down to face them. "If they find out that I've had contact with Will, they're bound to come down here soon. Even if they don't know."

Quinn looked up into Shelby's worried brown eyes. From the beginning she had told Quinn that getting Sam would put them at risk. That there would be hardly anything she could do to clear his name. But she had been willing to try and Quinn allowed her to. She didn't think it would turn out this way.

She sighed, leaning back in the couch. She felt Santana lean into her, sharing her stress. "Then, what do we do?"

"He's safe," Puck tried. "He's with Kurt."

"Kurt Hummel?" Shelby gaped. Puck nodded to her and Shelby shook her head, answering the question both Santana and Quinn had. "He use to be one of Sue's hunters," she turned back to Puck. "How does he have him?"

"All I know is that Will found out Sam was hiding out with Kurt and asked him to bring him down," said Puck. "The address is to the motel they're staying at but if the cops are still out, they won't care if this is a safe district. They'll pick you all up."

Quinn stared down at the slip of paper. "Do they know what he's done?"

"The hell they do," Puck snarled, "and you should've told us what we were getting into before you sent us on this wild chase for him."

"What he did was an accident!" Santana snapped back, slightly rising off the couch.

"There are no accidents for wolves!" Puck growled. "They know he was seen with two bitches. You're close enough. Even if they don't see your pelts, they'll know it's you."

Quinn put her arm out, pressing Santana back into the cushion. "But he has Sam and he's safe?" Quinn asked again because she still couldn't believe it. Puck rolled his eyes but nodded. "And you said Kurt's one of Sue's old hunters?"

Santana eyed her. "What are you getting at, Q?"

"Rachel can help us,"

"You're out of your mind," Santana snorted. "Screw her all you want, but she's not getting anywhere near Sam." Quinn felt her face burn red at Puck's cocked eyebrow and Shelby's hidden shock. Santana looked like she was about to slap Quinn upside the head.

"Santana's right," said Shelby before Quinn could even take in a breath to retort. She stood up from the couch, tapping her nail against the back of her phone. "Sue has to know about this. There's no way she hasn't already heard wind of the police reports especially since they concern wolves."

"I know Sugar has," Quinn muttered. All heads snapped to her. "When I was coming from Rachel's apartment the other day, I saw her with the cops cuffing a boy in a wheelchair."

"Artie," Puck bristled. "He helped Schuester fix up the radio."

"She threatened to take me in if I was caught across the lines again."

"But she wasn't interested in turning you in then?" Quinn shook her head. Shelby pressed her fingers into her temples in frustration. "You shouldn't have gone there, Quinn. What were you thinking?"

"Whatever it was, it wasn't with her head." Santana quipped. Quinn jabbed her nicely in the ribs but Shelby wasn't paying them any attention.

She leaned up against the far wall, eyebrows drawn in. "Something's not right,"

Santana nudged her, leaning close to Quinn's ear. "We need to get him, Q,"

"Not yet," said Puck, packing up the police radio into an old, McKinley High School gym bag he must've never turned in. "The cops are running hot right now and Sue has probably informed the hunters. You can't move now."

"Then the full moon," Quinn suggested. "We're allowed to run free on full moons in the safe district, remember? We could get out then while the hunters are distracted by the rouges. That'll be our chance to leave town."

"Are you sure you still want to leave?" asked Shelby, staring right into Quinn's eyes. There was no doubt Shelby knew about her and Rachel. How much time they spent together, the lingering glances and red blotches in cheeks.

Quinn caught Santana's eyes looking at her. Was she sure she wanted to leave? No. No she wasn't sure. Not anymore. In the first weeks, she had been eager to get Sam back and leave town and run. Just keep on running with the only two people she had left to trust and protect. In the time they had been there, Rachel had squeezed herself in. And Quinn wasn't so sure she was ready.

Shelby noticed her hesitation. "I told you I would do what I can to try and clear Sam's name and you could stay in the safe district. Otherwise, you'll be running for miles and they'll always be after you."

Quinn turned to Santana for the answer. She hadn't been able to make a decision for herself without her since those days Rachel had started showing up more and more. They had been in it together from the beginning and had promised each other they would keep running at each other's sides until the end. But now?

Santana's eyebrow raised just a fraction, testing her. Testing her to abandon her. What had Quinn told her? That she was on Santana's side first. Before anything, she always would be. To break that she would be no better than those deranged mutts that hunted their own kind.

She took a deep breath. "We've been doing this for years, Shelby. We know the risks." She answered, feeling a twinge in her chest and a tiredness in her bones as she thought about the pending flee. "And I'm willing to take them. Santana?"

"I'm with Q. We've stayed here too long anyway. I don't like it." She sat up, resting a hand on Quinn's thigh and squeezed letting her know that Santana understood. "Is there a way we can get to Sam, let him know the plan?"

"There's the address," Puck slid it across the coffee table. He stood, slinging the bag over his shoulder. "Do what you want with it."

Santana picked it up, eyes memorizing the numbers and letters until it was lodged into her memory. She turned to Quinn. "Q?"

Quinn nodded, forcing down everything inside. "I'm in,"

-/-/-/-

There was a fine sheet of snow covering the ground. Rachel's boots crushed it as she jogged, following the deep presses of Quinn's paws.

She had left Rachel just as they broke into the trees, clothes tossed haphazardly throughout the forest. Rachel had picked them up and rested them on a log where the snow wouldn't get them wet.

Quinn's howl was bright across the sunlit horizon. Rachel let the note sink into her, finding the pitch her throat before she took in a breath and echoed it. She was almost surprised how very human her faux howl had been. It just barely touched the timbre of a wolf and lacked that same power as Quinn's second call.

It was closer and Rachel broke into a sprint. She didn't know why they were doing this racing game. All Rachel knew was that she loved it. This sprinting that made her face burned from the cold air and her toes, though wrapped in layers in her boots, were starting to tingle.

It was a sort of ritual with her and Quinn over the weeks. This driving out to the edge of the forest, Quinn shyly shedding her clothes placing them in the car while Rachel went on ahead and waited for a steak of gray and white to pass her.

And each time, she would end up with her knees in the dirt, panting for air while Quinn pranced around her still live with energy and her golden eyes glowing like neon.

Rachel grabbed a low branch, using it to rocket her into a clearing just past where the stream marked noticeable territory. Rachel almost missed the streak of gray shooting by on her right. The white underbelly of Quinn's wolf made it hard to track her, but Rachel saw it and she pushed off.

Her feet hit in the same places that paws had pressed. A stinging ache coated her throat as air rushed in her nose and out of her parted lips. A golden eye glanced at Rachel and Rachel couldn't help but return the smile at Quinn's open muzzle.

The wolf's pace slowed, matching Rachel's strides. Fur brushed against her and she howled once again, trying to match the wonderful song of Quinn. Teeth snapped at her thigh and Rachel found herself toppling forward, tripping over Quinn's furry body and into the snow.

"That isn't fair!" Rachel heaved, turning over onto her back. She dusted snow off her coat, hair shaking to get the rest out. Quinn was strutting out in front of her haughtily, tail and head held high. "You're a cheater,"

Quinn turned to her with a low bark as she charged forward. Rachel's eyes pinched shut, back smacking down into the snow. She opened them to find Quinn standing above her, head tilted and eyes glowing.

Rachel smoothed her hand over dark gray fur, digging her nails in to feel the warmth. Golden eyes watched her all the while, tail relaxed.

Quinn bent her head down, bumping her nose against Rachel's stomach. She laughed, using her other hand to run up along her muzzle, between the eyes then scratch right between the ears she knew Quinn liked. The wolf's eyes closed, pushing up into the strokes.

Rachel smiled, continuing to pet and scratch. She couldn't help wondering how smooth and warm Quinn's skin would feel under her palms and what sound would come out of her throat as Rachel comb nails through her scalp.

So far, Quinn only allowed her to caress her in furs. Each time they did this, Rachel wanted to feel that moonlight skin that she had seen so gloriously under moonlight when Quinn changed in front of her.

The beauty of the whole transformation was still stuck on Rachel. The twisted bliss that she saw in Quinn's face as she willed it on. The way her body curled letting her spine snake down and her limbs crack. The moan, a mix of pleasure and pain, that left her throat as her skull finally shifted into place and her heavy paws scratched at the ground.

Hot breath warmed up the side of Rachel's face as Quinn lowered her head down. She closed her eyes, letting the heat radiating from Quinn's body warm up her freezing self. She threaded her fingers into the fur of Quinn's neck, laughing at the stroke of a wet tongue across the side of her face.

"Should we go?" she asked into the large, white tipped ear above her. She felt Quinn touch her cheek with her nose. She shuddered. "You may not realize it, but it is below freezing out here."

Quinn pulled back, taking the wrist of Rachel's coat in her teeth and helped her up. She stayed walking close to the wolf on the way back through the trees. The sun had dipped low on the horizon so trees casted long shadows across the snow.

Once the hour hit eleven, she would have to join Jesse and Finn on patrol. Rachel's fingers curled into Quinn's coat as they walked. It was always the time she hated. Having to pull away from the warmth of fur or having to walk away from the heat she felt each time Quinn kissed her cheek. Or Quinn pulled her in and nuzzled her neck like a pup and brushed her lips on her neck before saying goodbye.

Rachel felt the tingle of it shoot through her stronger than what her frozen feet were doing. Quinn turned back to look at her, giving her wolf eyes that Rachel saw so much of the human Quinn in. Rachel scratched the back of Quinn's neck and her tail swished up to hit Rachel behind the knees.

As she started the car, Quinn left off to change back and pull her clothes back on. Rachel could see her between the thick of trees. The grapefruit colored rays of the sun traced the curves of her body, enveloping Quinn in that warm glow that encompassed both the woman and her wolf.

She felt bad for staring. Just, eating her up. One would think Rachel was use to seeing wolves shift to and from. But, for some reason, she was never use to the furs rippling back up Quinn's body or the startling, striking girl that came afterwards.

Quinn turned, hazel eyes catching brown. Rachel turned away, cheeks flooding red once she saw the smirk pulling on Quinn's lips.

"Does it hurt?" asked Rachel once Quinn shut the door. Because all wolves made it seem like such fun and it always made her wonder about Brittany and what she would feel. "When you change?"

"Every time," she turned the vents away from her. Rachel rose her eyebrow, but there was as sheen of sweat across Quinn's forehead.

"So it doesn't get better?"

"It does," she said, hand combing through messy hair. "The first couple changes are the worst but it gets easier. But it'll never stop hurting. A lot of elder wolves won't transform anymore because the human half of them can't handle it anymore." Ripe, gold eyes turned to look at her. "Shouldn't a hunter know this?"

Rachel shrugged, pulling onto Shelby's street. "A lot of our teaching is devoted on how to kill wolves, not the extended study of wolves and their nature. Yet even then, I believe a lot of our logic is flawed. Take you for instance," Rachel shut off the car, popping her door open. "You're perfectly tame."

Quinn snorted, fishing for the house key in her pocket. "I resent that claim,"

The house was quiet and still with Shelby gone to work. They tip toed past Santana sprawled out on the couch underneath a knit blanket. Quinn shut off the TV that was playing nothing but infomercials and led Rachel up the stairs.

Rachel tugged off her coat, laying it on the back of a desk chair along with her hat, gloves and scarf resenting the fact she'd have to layer it all back on and leave in a couple hours.

Quinn fell backwards onto the bed, shirt riding up to show the milky skin of her stomach. Rachel licked her lips, moving to sit down on the mattress beside her. It was different when Quinn was human. She didn't know how to act, what to say.

Her wolf was playful, seemingly the part of Quinn that she often kept concealed when she was in skins. It made Rachel more hesitant when she touched the side of Quinn's face, smoothing a finger over the curve of her cheekbone and down the side of her neck. Her skin was just as warm as her coat under her fingertips.

Turning her hand over, Rachel dragged her knuckles over the smooth skin of Quinn's face, then ran her fingers up into the line of her hair, nails just grazing her scalp. She saw Quinn's jaw flex tight, holding something down that Rachel wanted so much to hear.

"Do you wish you were human?" asked Rachel, combing her hand through the short hair before repeating the action. She shifted so she lay on her side beside Quinn. She propped her head up on the heel of her hand.

"Sometimes," Quinn sighed out the word, scooting closer. "I'd still have my parents. But then we never would've been there to save Santana's life or Sam's family."

Rachel leaned closer, touching her nose to Quinn's shoulder. The scent of forest pines and the faint traces of soap filled her nose. "You love them,"

Quinn nodded, shivering as Rachel dragged a finger down the side of her neck once again. "They're all I have,"

Rachel bit her lip. "You could have me," Quinn's eyes fluttered open just as Rachel was tracing a path between them. She grabbed Rachel's hand, pulling it away and threaded her fingers into Rachel's slender ones. She brought their linked hands down so they rested between them.

"Rachel," Quinn turned to look at her, voice suddenly serious. "We found Sam."

"That's wonderful," Rachel smiled but Quinn's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Wait," she pushed up, eyes narrowing. "So this means you're leaving?"

"Yes,"

"Why?" asked Rachel. "You're safe here with Shelby. There's not another safe district for states west of here."

"I have to go," Quinn sighed. "We can't stay here,"

"Why not?"

Quinn hesitated as if she were trying to find the right words to say. "We never stay in one place very long. We've been here longer than we should've and that was only until we found Sam."

"So that's it then?" Rachel sank back down, her face falling into the comforter. Her eyes watched the rise and fall of Quinn's chest. "You come here and make me-" She stopped. That was a pointless thing to say.

"Make you what?" Quinn slid down so their eyes were level. Rachel did her best not to look into them. "Make you what, Rachel?"

She raised their joined hands for Quinn to see. "What does this mean?"

Conflicted pain shot across Quinn's face. She brought up their hands, touching Rachel's knuckles to her cool lips. "We have to go,"

"That's not necessarily true," Rachel drew her hand out of Quinn's to cup her face. Her fingers remembered the touch of fur beneath them. Feeling her skin was so much more. "You're safe here,"

Quinn smiled, holding Rachel's hand in place. "There are no real safe places for wolves,"

"You don't have to leave," Rachel inched closer so that Quinn's body pressed into hers. Strong arms came around her waist, pulling her closer still. "Stay with me,"

Her lips sucked the words out of Quinn's mouth before they had a chance to make it up her throat. Rachel's eyes closed, her hand slipping behind Quinn's neck, trying to draw her even more into her.

It had been so long since she had felt this alive. Since that gaping hole in her chest that continued to grow and grow as each year past was filled with something more than grief. How she found it in the monster she should've killed upon meeting, Rachel would never understand. But she knew that there was something swelling inside of her and she didn't want it to disappear.

She knew the hand that was splayed across the skin of her back, holding her tighter and tighter was showing a promise of safety that Rachel hadn't felt when she picked up her gear and ran out into the woods without her dad at her side.

She knew that those lips were electrifying and the look in her eyes was the strike of a match that filled Rachel up with long lost warmth and brought her head out of the darkness. She knew that the mutter of a moan that left Quinn's lips was a sound she wanted to keep hearing during early mornings and late nights, curled under sheets for days and weeks and months and-

"I can't," Quinn managed to utter. "We have to go," Rachel pecked her lips again, trying to shut her up. "It's not safe for us here." Rachel finally pulled away, losing the air in her lungs at the gold irises before her. Rachel felt the hum in her own body. Had she been wolf, her own eyes would be glowing just as intense.

"I'm sorry," Quinn whispered. Rachel closed her eyes, trying her best to control her breathing and to stop herself from getting lost once again. "But I have to. We have to go."

"When are you leaving?"

There was a beat of silence. Rachel could feel the tension in Quinn before she answered. "The full moon,"

"That's only a week away," she noted. Quinn nodded and Rachel yanked away from her to stand.

"Rachel," Quinn reached out for her, but Rachel was already grabbing her jacket and pulling her arms into it. "Don't,"

"I have to," she tugged her gloves on harshly. "I need to meet Finn for patrol tonight."

Without words, Quinn got up, following her down the stairs and into the entryway. "Come by again?" asked Quinn. Rachel sighed. "Please?"

"Was this not a good enough farewell for you or do you want to make it harder for me?"

Quinn winced. "Things have changed," she tried. "We might have stayed in the beginning but- but things changed. We can't stay anymore."

"Fine," Rachel undid the lock.

"Rachel-"

"No, I get it. It was dumb of me to even entertain the thought of us having something." Quinn blinked like she was appalled that Rachel even had the thought. Rachel cringed. "I have to get to the station now,"

Quinn caught her by the wrist, jolting her back into her and pressed a kiss to her lips. "Please, come by again."

Rachel hated how she melted all over again with another glance of those glittering pools or golden heat. "We will see,"

-/-/-/-

Rachel pulled up to her apartment, startled to see a big, black jeep parked in her usual parking place. She rolled into the one beside it, staring confused at Jesse leaning against the car.

She got out of the car. "Is there a problem?" she asked.

Jesse hardly ever left the station. All his work was done from his desk, with the occasional hunt. Only times he left his desk was for Sue and it was also to bring bad news.

"I've been calling you for an hour," he said, pushing up from the passenger door. He hit a button on his keys so the locks unlocked. "Get in,"

"What's going on?" Rachel scrambled to get into the jeep. Even if she didn't want to, she had to.

"Sue needs you down at the station,"

"Couldn't she just call?"

He shrugged, pulling onto the main road. "She wanted to make sure you didn't try to run away."

"Run away?" Rachel questioned but Jesse stayed silent.

He flicked off the radio as he pulled into the station lot. Rachel looked for Finn's truck or even the Chang's sleek vehicle, but only Sue's pick up and Jesse's jeep took up spaces.

She stepped inside, wiping her shoes on the mat to not track in snow. Jesse brushed past her to sit back down in his desk and picked up the phone. "You can go on back," he told her.

Rachel nodded, her heart pounding the closer she got to Sue's door. What had she done? Had she found out about all the patrols she had been skipping? She couldn't have. Did she know that it was Rachel's fault with the two dead wolves from the Chang hunt? No, she already knew it was Rachel. Was it Shelby? Was it Santana or Quinn?

"Sue?" said Rachel, her voice small. She cleared her throat. "You wanted to see me, ma'am?"

"Yes. Right, Rachel," Sue didn't even look up from her papers as she addressed her. "Come in. Have a seat why don't you? And shut the door."

She did as she was told, feeling fifteen all over again and about to get scolded for ruining the hunt that night and letting the wolves get away. Rachel had busted her ass ever since then. She made sure she was never the cause of failure. Sue's words hurt her too deep and the quiet disappointment in her dad's eyes had been all too much for her to bear.

"How's your mother?" Rachel was taken aback by the question. Sue hated Shelby. More than she hated wolves she despised the woman who made killing them even more. "Doing well with her adopted, little bitches?"

Rachel felt herself fume but she stayed neutral in her face. "She's doing fine the last time I checked."

"No trouble?"

"Not that I know of."

"Well, I'm sure glad to hear that," the tone in Sue's voice made Rachel sick. It was almost shocking how just a couple months ago Rachel's voice had been dripping with that same malice towards the woman.

She watched Sue put down the papers in her hands and lean forward in her desk. Folded hands rested on a manila folder as her eyes peered over her glasses that made her eyes look twice as big behind the glass.

Sue's lips pursed a moment, holding Rachel's eyes. "Berry, I want you to be honest with me when I ask you this. And don't feel that just because you've made nice with your poor old, child sick mother that you feel the need to defend her."

Rachel's brow drew in. "I have not reason to lie to you, Ms. Sylvester, whether it be against my family or friends, I will tell you the truth."

"That's what I like to hear," Sue's grin was crooked as she peeled off her glasses. They clinked down onto her desk as she asked, "Did you know your mother is housing criminals?"

"I-I'm sorry?"

"I'm positive I didn't stutter or pass out from an epileptic seizure when I said that, but I'll ask you again, Berry," she took in a deep breath, speaking slowly and surly. "Did you know that your mother, Shelby Corcoran, is harboring convicted felons in her home?"

Rachel's brow furrowed. "Sylvester, I have been seeing my mother every once in a while over these past few months and not once have I been aware of any criminals in her house. Though I know she sometimes allows wolves to stay with her, Shelby abides strictly by the laws and would never allow one to enter, let alone stay in her home, had she known they had criminal charges."

"I'm not going to pretend that I heard any of that but I'll assume that you've gone soft on me, hunter, and are defended the very people we have tried so hard to fight against."

"Shelby isn't hiding anyone in her home."

Sue stared at her for a moment, trying to find the lie in her eyes. Her hands moved quick, picking up the manila folder and cracked it open. She slid a file across the desk with the picture of a boy with dirty blonde hair and green eyes paper clipped to the top of it.

"What do you call this?"

Rachel examined the face. "I don't know who that is," she answered, honestly.

Sue gave a frustrated sigh, picking up the file and started to read. "Samuel Evans, age 21, werewolf from the Ontario region. Convicted for the murder of Officer Boyeau of The Manchester Police Force up state Pennsylvania. Seen with two unnamed bitches. Coat colors: gray and white, other solid black. Last seen crossing the New Jersey/Delaware state lines."

Rachel felt her mouth go dry. "That still means nothing to me,"

"I thought I taught you better than to lie to me." Sue ticked.

"I am telling you the truth. I don't know who he is."

"But you do," she brought out another file, thick and in a yellow envelope Rachel knew was the Findlay hunt files. Sue took out the report sheet Jesse had typed up for them. "Six wolves. Let's see," Sue used one hand to hold up her glasses to read the print. "Oh! Look here. Two unnamed bitches; blonde woman, coat gray and white other Latina, coat black. Claimed by Shelby Corcoran."

"Quinn and Santana have been living with Shelby for months,"

"Quinn and Santana?" Sue repeated, pens jotting the names down. "Thank you. I was in need of those names."

Rachel's stomach dropped. "They're not criminals. That file said that Sam was the murderer, not them."

"Sam?" Sue's eyebrows went up. Rachel backtracked her words. "Sam's a bit too friendly to address someone you don't know."

Rachel sank into the chair. "I have never seen Sam, or Samuel, or whoever. He has never been here and even so, Quinn and Santana are innocent."

"You know the law," Sue dropped her pen. "The law that your father helped lay down, no doubt, when that bitch you call a mother walked into this town demanding things and waving around subpoenas not knowing what bull she was tangling with."

Rachel sat forward in her chair. "The law is flawed and you very well know it is, Sue.

"So you're willing to skew the law for this pack of wolves you have only known for the better of three months but not your own hunter?"

"What?"

"How scared is she?" Sue asked, a sickeningly bitter grin tugging at her lips. "Is she still wearing that damn bracelet trying to pretend like she's still one of us?"

"You know?" Rachel gasped, softly.

Sue chuckled in faux amusement. "When will you realize that nothing goes on in this town without me knowing."

"Brittany is still one of us and the others are innocent!"

Sue swatted at Rachel's hands that now clenched the edge of the desk with a folder. "Manchester wants three heads not one."

"I don't even know where Sam is,"

"You've played your part well enough," Sue leaned forward, pressing the button on her intercom. "Sugar," she said into the speaker.

Rachel sat back dumbfounded. "Sugar?"

A brief moment past before the door to Sue's office creaked open and Sugar stepped inside. Rachel's eyes widened at the officer uniform she wore. Her eyes shifted down to Rachel. For a second she saw that little girl who had pressed the ring into her hand and told her that the emptiness would soon fade away. Well it hadn't and it was only growing larger and larger the longer she sat in Sue's office.

"I'm sorry, Rachel," Sugar muttered.

Rachel snapped. "You've been spying on us,"

"She's been collecting information for me and doing a fine job at it too." Said Sue with too much pride in her voice. "How's the force under Chief Tanaka?"

Sugar perked up slightly. "It's very good, thank you for asking, Chief Sylvester,"

"I can't believe you," Rachel choked out.

Sue smirked. "All Sugar wanted was a place to belong and the Lima Police Department was more than happy to take on Mr. Motta's daughter. And she's done such a fine job providing me with enough information about this scandal to get your mother and her safe district and all those mutts that worship the ground she walks on out of my town."

Rachel glared, holding Sue's deceptive eyes. "You can't do this,"

"Oh?" the venom in Sue's voice burned through Rachel right into her stomach making it hurt. "Sugar, why don't you tell Rachel what you saw the other night. What was it? Oh right, Berry I hear you've taken a liking to furs. Funny how I thought you were a vegan."

"What do you know?"

"I'm sure Quinn's coat would make a better blanket were it not attached to her. But you enjoy getting warm and comfy with that flea ridden disgrace of humanity don't you?"

"What's your point?" Rachel hissed, her palms aching from how tight she clutched the arms of the chair.

"Here's the thing, Berry, you've been compromised. It looks like I'm going to have to write another one of my best hunters off." Sue sighed like it actually hurt her to say. "You and that sweet porcelain were two of my best. But you both had to go chasing tail and now I'm left with that dough boy jolly green giant and a sadistic, wolf hunter who fills up my station with that hideous orchestral junk."

And then everything clicked in Rachel's head. "You're the reason why Kurt left?"

"I can't have traitors sticking around my district. Looks bad on the outside - to the public. I guess that mean's I'll have to assign someone to take care of Brittany as well." Sue challenged Rachel to speak but she couldn't. Her mind was racing and her heart was hurting and she just wanted to vomit and scream.

Sue saw it and with one satisfied smirk, she turned to Sugar. "Now, Sugar. Tell me what you know."

"Quinn and Santana plan on reuniting with Sam. He's staying with ex hunter, Kurt Hummel, on the west side of Lima." She paused, chewing on her lip to glance at Rachel. "Schuester and Artie have already been taken in and we're waiting until Puck is finished with the two wolves before we take him in as well."

"Excellent work, officer," Sue gave her a true grin that made Rachel seethe. "It's a shame your father never let you be a hunter. Otherwise, I'd have you working straight out of here instead of under those bumbling oafs." Sugar couldn't hide her grimace. "Dismiss,"

Sugar nodded tersely and scurried off. Sue picked up her glasses, completely disregarding Rachel still sitting shell shocked in the hair. "I said dismiss, Berry,"

"You can't do this,"

"But I already have," Sue peered over the top of a form. "And if you'd rather me not have Jesse shoot you on your way out, I suggest you get your ass out of my station, off my lot, and as far away from here as you can manage in the next twenty-four hours. It would pain me to see one of my best hunters murdered and on my command."

"So don't," said Rachel quickly. "I am still your hunter."

"You are, aren't you?" Sue dropped her papers, holding out her hand. "Give me your necklace."

"No," Rachel clutched her necklace at her throat. "I'm staying,"

Sue's voice darkened, eyes flaming. "Do not push me, Berry,"

"You want three heads?" she challenged. "Well you're not going to get Quinn and Santana without my help."

"I've done all of this without you. What makes you think you're still necessary?"

"I talk to Quinn. She trusts me. I could get them all to walk straight into your trap without them even realizing it."

Sue sat back and Rachel allowed herself to let out the tiniest of a breath. "What I want is an uproar. An uproar will get my lines fixed and my hunters back."

"An uproar will make the public hate you even more," Rachel countered. "Do it quietly, show them that you care about Lima and are trying to help it. By causing a scene, you'll lose more. People don't want violence, they want logic."

Sue tapped her chin with a finger, narrowed eyes pushing Rachel against the back of her chair. "We will see," she said finally. "Now leave or I might change my mind about making it a game of St. James trying to snipe you from the roof on your way out of here."

"Yes, ma'am," Rachel nodded.

She shut Sue's door behind her, demanding Jesse take her home right that instance. She almost didn't make it upstairs and into her apartment before the tears rained down her face.


	10. Part IX

**Part IX**

Mr. Motta, Chang and St. James were at the station when Rachel arrived.

She hadn't even thought to wake Brittany when Jesse phoned for them to come down. The running lie was that Brittany had the flu, and when Rachel had checked on her the night before, that was exactly what it looked like. Leaving a note and a glass of water on Brittany's nightstand, Rachel dressed and left.

She was almost surprised to see the Chang's, but when she remembered Sue's plan, it made sense. They were all trying to set the laws back to past standards. If Sue were successful in whatever the plan was she was trying to execute, the Chang's would certainly benefit from it.

They were all in the meeting room across from Sue's office. Rachel sat between Finn and Jesse on one side while Sue and Jeremy St. James took the heads on each end. Mr. Chang had Mike to his left and Mr. Motta was beside him on the opposite side of the table

"About time you found some dirt on that woman," said Jeremy. He picked at his teeth with a nail that still had orange peel underneath it.

Sue regarded him disgusted. "Yes, well I had your daughter, Mr. Motta, to thank for that."

"Is that so?" his voice was slithery in Rachel's ears. She looked up to see his light brown eyes on her for a moment. He thumbed his clean-shaven chin. "I'm thrilled to know she has been useful in some way."

It made since to Rachel now. Sugar was afraid. Each hunt Rachel saw her she knew Sugar was afraid. But that was only because her father never let her have the chance to overcome it. Losing his wife, he didn't want to lose his daughter as well.

"But do you think this will work?" asked Mr. Chang. "Ms. Corcoran has many supporters through Lima and her district. If we don't go about this in the right way, it could turn around on us."

Sue sat back in her swivel chair, hands clasped against her stomach. "Who said we were going to gentle about this?"

"But didn't you-" Al started.

"Listen closely, boys," Sue's hand cut off Mr. Motta. "Did she not come here, demanding things change? Did she not threaten us with governors and political leaders from the south? The only way to combat someone like Shelby Corcoran is by force. Or else, she will fight back."

Mr. Chang folded his hands on the table. "What is it that you're suggesting then, Sue?"

Sue's mouth tugged back. "We take Shelby in, charge her for harboring criminals. She knows the laws and has to adhere by them. While she's behind bars, the hunters will have freedom to take down as many wolves as they want."

Finn furrowed his brow. "Even in the safe district?"

"Even in the safe district, Hudson." Sue looked as if she wanted to roll her eyes. "The wolves are nothing without their precious, little savior, and once news is out about her offense, there is nothing she or they can do. Winner. Take. All."

Rachel shifted uncomfortably under Sue's cold eyes. They were watching her, testing her to speak up. But she wouldn't. When she fought to keep her silvers, she had vowed that her allegiance was with Sue - That her mother didn't matter. Rachel turned away, hearing Jesse speak.

"We don't have enough hunters for the job," said Jesse. The others nodded just as Sue's phone rang from the other room.

"Hold that thought, curly locks," she left, answering the phone mid fourth ring. She was gone for no more than thirty seconds before she came back. "Come with me. All of you,"

They moved out of the meeting room, following Sue up to the station lobby. Opening the door, Rachel saw a set of vans pull up into the lot. The Manchester emblem was printed on the sides of both.

Rachel stood up straighter, watching their headhunter step out of the leading black car. She had heard about the hunters in Pennsylvania. They were the law in most cases. Headed by the willowy Holly Holliday. She had never met her, but Rachel remembered her voice speaking to Jesse on the phone one day when she came back to the station. He was all red in the ears and his voice a disgustingly sweet tone.

Other than that, Rachel only knew that Sue had a love hate relationship for the blonde headhunter. And Rachel saw why as Holly approached her, dusting snow out of her blonde hair, and blinked striking grayish blue eyes. She didn't even try and conceal the ring of bite marks along her neck. Rachel thought instantly to Brittany.

"I hadn't believed it," said Jesse above her. His eyes were on Holly as she shook Sue's hand with her own leather gloved one. "Impressive,"

"Boys, this is Chief Holliday," announced Sue, turning to face all of them. "Headhunter of the Manchester Hunting Division and deputy of police."

"Please," she smiled and winked up to Jesse. "Call me Holly," He smirked, chest extending just a hair more.

"She and her force will be handling the convicts while, Senior Chang," Sue continued as if Holly hadn't spoken, "you are to assemble a few of your own. Al, I know you're hiding your own set of hunters so why not stop trying to protect them and finally put real guns and silvers in their hands for a change? Problem?"

Mr. Motta's jaw tightened, his hand smoothing down his navy blue tie. "Not even one,"

"That's what I like to hear," Sue grinned. "Full moon, we reconvene here with all forces. Is that understood?" They nodded, shaking hands with Holly and stomped out into the falling snow. "The rest of you. My office. Now."

"Rory," Holly turned to the deputy that had gotten out of the car with her. The deep, green leather of his hunter's gear was just as shiny as Holly's. "Lead the vans to the hotel, won't you?"

"Right away, chief," he nodded, and pranced off before Rachel could place what sort of accent that was.

She found herself cramped with the others in Sue's office again. Holly took to the chair while she, Jesse and Finn stood aside, listening.

"Holliday, I'm giving you free reign of this place. St. James knows the few locations your wolves may be hiding out and you are to target them first. Leave Shelby's house untouched until I give the go ahead. And pick up that damn Puckerman. He's getting on my nerves."

"Yes, ma'am," Jesse nodded.

"Bang up every motel on the west side of here. Take in anyone who looks suspicious. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," they chorused. Holly's eyebrows shot up, impressed.

"Now go on. Get out of here," she waved a hand, her eyes on Rachel and lips smirking until the door clicked shut on their voices.

-/-/-/-

They ran on fours through the forest that whipped around the edge of the Shelby's district. Shelby had offered them the car, but Santana never learned how to drive and Quinn was no longer confident in the lessons her dad have given her sometime when she was sixteen.

Quinn's run was lopsided as the backpack of their clothes banged against her back. It was a hassle to carry, but it was better than holding the things in her mouth and getting them slobbery and damp.

The safe district stretched farther than Quinn had thought it did. But the closer they got to the edge, the less the smell of wolf permeated through the air. Quinn hooked a right, steering them into an alley between an abandon furniture store with an antic shop to the left.

Shrugging the backpack off, she pawed it towards Santana who was already mid change. Quinn pinched eyes shut, teeth bared as she willed her own body to shift. The moon in the sky was two slivers away from full. It made the transformation back to human difficult. She saw the strain on Santana's face as the black fur snaked up her arms and legs.

However many times Quinn had seen the bare body of Santana, she was still in awe of it. In both skins and furs, Santana being only half wolf one would think she lacked the appeal of the pure breeds. But her beauty was great and the strength of her muzzle just the same.

The orange in her eyes lingered once it was over. She unzipped the bag just as Quinn's hand slapped the pavement and she shed her pelt completely. A pair of undergarments were thrown at her. At the last minute Quinn extended her hand to catch them instead of in her mouth.

"How far?" she asked, pulling them up her legs.

Santana pulled her hair out of the collar of her shirt. She walked to the opening of the alley, looking left and right before she came back. "A block if I memorized the directions right."

Quinn nodded. Her arms slithered into a pea coat Shelby had given her though the scent on it told Quinn it had belonged to Rachel before. She wouldn't complain. "Come on," she shouldered the bag.

Quinn kept her ears perked as they moved. She hadn't forgotten what Puck had said. If they knew about Sam, then they'd be looking for all of them. They rounded the block, coming up on Tanner St. The bright green, pink, and white neon sign of the motel shined bright against the overcast sky.

"That's it?" Quinn asked, pushing the button on a traffic light post for them to cross.

"That's it," they crossed.

The motel was a dirty looking place with washed out brown brick and pink doors framed in pale green trim. Beside a caged in vending machine was a no werewolves' sign though someone had scratched away the red line through it. Still, it put Quinn on edge to see.

She urged Santana on, reading the door numbers until she stopped in front of one and they froze. Quinn reached up for the doorknocker when Santana gripped her wrist.

"If Sam's not in there," she said, orange eyes glowing into Quinn's own golden ones. "We get the hell out of here. No going back to Shelby's. We run."

"Okay," she nodded once. Santana narrowed her eyes. "We run. Got it." It took four series of knocks before the locks clicked.A boy with sculpted brown hair answered the door, staring down at Quinn with blue eyes through the crack.

He narrowed his eyes at them, obviously catching the just now fading blaze of theirs. "Our bathroom has already been cleaned," He started to close the door. Quinn hurried to stop it with a hand.

"My name is Quinn and this is Santana. We-" The scent that traveled up her nose cut her off. It was faint, covered up with the musk of another wolf she didn't know and this human before her. But Quinn knew it. By the moon, she knew it.

"Q?" Santana stepped forward, looking at her confused. Her senses were still dulled by the effect of the silver.

"Are you Kurt?" Quinn tried and his eyes widened.

"How do I know you're not working for the hunters?" he asked, voice tight.

Santana rolled her eyes, pushing Quinn aside. "Puck gave us this address. I know Sam is in there, now hand him over."

"It's not as simple as-"

"Santana?" a voice called from inside. There was a shuffling and the slam of a door that followed with another voice. "Relax, Blaine. Kurt let them in. They're cool."

Giving them one hard look, Kurt ushered them inside quickly. The door slammed and locked just as they breeched the threshold. Quinn pushed Santana to the side, her eyes watering and mouth dropping at the blonde boy standing in the middle of the motel room.

His normal dirty blonde hair was now bright, near platinum and shaggy. The greens of his eyes were bright in sunken sockets and his massive smile was big against jagged cheekbones. He was thin, so very thin from the last time Quinn remembered, but there was no mistaken it was him. It was Sam.

"Hey," he grinned.

Quinn nearly tripped over her feet as she ran for him. She threw her arms around Sam's neck, nose burying into the fabric of his sweater. "I can't believe it's you,"

His arms circled around her waist, thin but still strong as they held her up. "I can't believe you're alive," he said into the thick of her hair.

"Come on, come on. Enough with the sap," said Santana behind them. Quinn was reluctant to let him go.

"Idiot," Santana's arms crossed over her chest, sneering up at Sam. "What the hell were you thinking? Can't believe we're alive? You're the one who should be ash right now. You're so stupid."

Sam grinned, taking Santana up in his arms and hugged her to his broad chest. "I missed you too, Santana,"

"Get off me," she mumbled into his shoulder, but there was hardly any fight in her voice.

Quinn looked around the motel. Two beds, a TV, a table with two chairs pushed up under the window and sink station with a tiny bathroom next to it. It was just as cheap and dingy and gross inside as it was outside.

"How long have you guys been here?" ask Sam. they moved away from the door, taking to Sam's bed to have a seat.

"Since September," she heard Santana answer. Quinn watched as Blaine pulled out one of the desk chairs and sat down, head angled towards the window.

"Four months? That's longer than normal,"

"We've been waiting for you," said Quinn, looking up into his green eyes.

They were eyes that had come into her life when she was eleven. The Evans were just a rouge pack of werewolves, running around not knowing a thing about how laws worked.

It was Russell and the hunting party who found them. Had to wrestle Mr. Evans to the ground and corner the Misses before they could talk to them with reason. Quinn watched them come in from the Lopez's porch with Santana. They shuffled, twitching and uneasy into the Fabray house with some others.

A week later, they lived in the house down the gravel road and to the left just where the thick of trees held cover for their hunting and free running. Santana had her fun snapping at his russet tail and nudging his shoulders when they'd run. That was until he flipped her over and clamped the scuff of her neck until she whimpered to be let up.

It never stopped Santana from biting off more than she could chew and it never ceased to make Quinn laugh and sigh and roll her eyes trying to get them back in order. Quinn felt tears spring to her eyes at the memory.

"I was surprised when Kurt told me you two were looking for me."

Oh. That's right. Quinn looked over at Kurt who was sitting on the edge of the second bed. He sat up straight. "You're an ex hunter," she said.

Kurt nodded, one leg crossing over the other. "I didn't leave by choice, though I probably would have soon enough."

Santana shifted next to her and Quinn could feel the tension in her body. She trusted no hunter. Ex or current. "Thank you for bringing him to us,"

"I was long overdue for a visit anyway," he smiled to them both then caught the death glare Santana was shooting him. Kurt waved it off and stood up. "I'll make coffee,"

Quinn whipped back around to Sam just as the coffee pot hit the coils to heat up. "Where have you been?"

"Hiding," he sat back with his hands into the mattress. "After I killed that officer, they had the whole police force trying to find me. I ran far up north and blended in until they took my picture off the front page. I found Kurt a few months ago. They use a lot of silver in Pennsylvania so I was too weak to run."

Santana's eyebrows shot up. "You've been with Kurt all this time?" Kurt brought over two cups but they waved them away. He walked to sit with Blaine keeping watch out the window.

"The last half. He and Blaine keep a low profile and their basement was comfortable enough."

"You didn't try to find us?"

"Over half a year had past," he shrugged, combing a hand through his shaggy, bleached hair. Quinn made a face at it. He needed a haircut and something to help the color. She figured he had done it to skew his identity. Quinn only thought that it made him a bigger target.

"I figured you'd moved on like normal. When I recovered I was going to start tracking you guys again. That's when Kurt got the call from Schuester."

"He's been arrested," Santana informed. Quinn saw Kurt look over at them. That little bit made Quinn trust Kurt a tad more.

"They'll be after Shelby soon as well," Quinn followed up. "We need to leave."

"Um, Quill-" started Kurt.

"Quinn," she corrected.

"Quinn. If I may?" Kurt rolled his eyes as he walked back over to them to sit on the edge of Sam's bed. "Though I know you are all very eager to get back on the road and shimmy your tails on out of here, you're running right into a death trap trying to get through Lima with his face."

Quinn touched Santana's arm to shut her up before anything could fall out of her mouth. "We're planning on running on the full moon when the safe district werewolves are allowed to run free. We figured they'd be enough distraction for us to get past the radar."

"Nothing gets past Sue Sylvester's radar," he sipped his coffee. "I know Sue better than any of you. I've worked for her since I was ten. It's probably safe to say she already knows Sam is here and that you both have a connection to him."

"Then why hasn't she done anything?" Santana quizzed.

Kurt waved a hand, unaffected. "Who knows what sort of plans are going on in that woman's head?"

"I thought you just said you knew Sue better than anyone,"

"What does it matter?" Quinn broke in. "Her arresting Schuester already told us she knows but she hasn't attacked yet. We have four days until the full moon. We can lay low, pretend like we're clueless and then run."

"Are you sure she'll wait that long?" asked Blaine from the window.

Kurt snapped his head over to him. "What is it, Blaine?" He hurried over, splitting the blinds with two fingers to look out. "Oh,"

"What's going on?"

"You have to go," Kurt broke away from the window and hit the floor beside the other bed. He shoved articles of clothing into a backpack. Blaine kept watch. "Sam, you're staying with us."

"What?" Santana wheeled on Kurt. "What for?"

"Full moon is still your target, right?" he asked, tossing the bag to Sam who slung it onto his back. Blaine pulled away from the curtain going to fill his own. "You'll get farther with that cover than you will if you decide to book it like hell now."

"Now?" Quinn's brow creased. "What's out there?"

"Hunters," Kurt said darkly just as Blaine flicked off the lights in the room.

Quinn blinked, drawing her eyes gold to get that extra sight in the dark. She felt Santana brush against her shoulder beside her and Sam bounded over to peek out of the window.

"It's the Headhunter from Pennsylvania," he hissed into the darkness. Kurt walked to the door, cracking it just enough to see out.

"And Sue's clan," Kurt sounded angry. "I'll go and talk to them. Blaine you take Sam, and the rest of you can go back to Shelby's."

Santana shot Quinn a glance. "Where are you going?"

"We'll keep him safe," Blaine's hand landed on her shoulder. He gave it a reassuring squeeze, pointed teeth poking out in his smile. "We'll contact you when we can."

"Wait for my single before you go," said Kurt before he left out the door.

"This is shit, Q," Santana muttered next to her. "This is all a bunch of bullshit. We should run now. Why wait?"

"Because I'm not ready to die yet,"

"Let's go," Blaine tugged on Quinn's wrist, leading them out of the door.

Snow fell like a thick blanket, clouding visibility. They followed Blaine along the wall of the motel, thankful that they had checked into one of the rooms closer to the edge of the building. Quinn squinted through the snowfall at the small group at the check-in entrance.

She saw Kurt talking adamantly to a bemused Finn and Jesse. Rachel stood beside them, eyes shooting everywhere: From Kurt, to the entrance, to the blonde woman walking out of the entrance draped in dark green leather, then to the motel door that belonged to Kurt.

If Rachel saw them, Quinn wasn't sure. They were already around the corner and sprinting. Sprinting fast. The noise of their packs hitting their backs and feet hitting ground was much too loud, but there was nothing that could be done.

They booked it between a Chinese take out and dentistry, skidding to a halt and hit the pavement as a police car came whizzing down the road. Santana held Quinn's head down while Quinn clutched her tight.

Sam grabbed the edge of a dumpster, pulling himself back up to his knees and crawled to where Blaine had smacked flat down onto his stomach before lights could flash on them again.

"Think you can make it to Shelby's safely?" asked Blaine, pushing up into a crouch. His brown eyes were bright and pure yellow. He panted, switching to the array of blazing pairs of wolf eyes. "I'll have word to you as soon as we get safe."

"I don't know why we can't just take Sam,"

"No," Quinn heaved. She licked her dry lips, trying to catch her breath. "It's better we stay apart. Maybe they don't know we're involved. If we take him back to Shelby's, they'll arrest her and then kill us all there."

"I don't care about Shelby!"

"Santana!"

"Down!"

They all hit the ground. The reek of the alleyway finally found it into Quinn's nose. She peeked down, seeing some sort of moldy wrapper just below her nose. She nearly gagged.

"Keep him safe," she said to Blaine. He nodded as she hooked her arms around Sam's neck one last time. "We'll get out of here soon." She muttered.

"Counting on your brains this time," he smiled. She pulled away, touching a hand to his cheek.

Quinn grabbed the neck of Santana's jacket, yanking her up to her feet. She waited until the swarm of fuzzy black left their vision before they started running again.

They were halfway down the street, falling behind a postal box before Quinn turned over her shoulder to see Sam and Blaine heading the opposite direction. She turned away, lifting to the balls of her feet by Santana's tug and hit the cement with a full-blown sprint.

-/-/-/-

Rachel stood at the door of Kurt's motel room, watching as Jesse, Finn, and Holly searched it. When they had pulled up to the place, she and Finn looked at each other immediately. But for Rachel it was because she knew for a fact that Kurt had Sam. For Finn, he was only shocked that they were back to the place they had dropped Kurt and Blaine after lunch that one afternoon.

She wrung her hands, eyes wide and switching to each of the hunters as they went through things. Jesse and Finn hardly turned things over. They had believed Kurt when he said he had no idea what they were talking about. That,

"My boyfriend is a werewolf, yes, if you're wondering why there are two sets of clothes here. Neither one of us likes to pack lightly. So, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop accusing me for a crime I have had no knowledge of and therefore could not commit."

His blue eyes had flickered to Rachel and she turned away.

Holly suddenly stood up straight. Rachel felt her blood run cold as she sniffed at the air. Her blue-gray eyes landed on Kurt who was sipping at a foam cup of coffee and looking bored. Only Rachel and Finn knew the constant tap of his heel on the carpet meant he was nervous.

He rolled his eyes up to the woman. "Get a whiff of something rank?" he asked, voice dripping with annoyance. "They hardly clean the bathrooms here. So Finn, I suggest you hold it until you get back to the station."

Finn's cheeks tinged pink. Holly's smirk was condescending. "You've had wolves here recently. More than one."

"Your point?"

"Visitors?"

"That is the entire point of visiting, isn't it?" Kurt said dryly. When he took a sip of coffee, Rachel saw his hand give a shake. But he was an ex hunter and Kurt was always a master of deception. "Would be pretty pointless if I came all the way back here and no one came to see me."

"You were friends with wolves?"

"My boyfriend is a werewolf. Of course I was," his blue eyes narrowed, head tilted. "And by the looks of your neck, so were you." Holly's eyebrows rose, a shocked smile tugging on her lips. Rachel looked down at her boots to hide her own amusement.

"Whatever he's saying it's true," said Finn. He dropped a crisp, white button up shirt back onto the floor. "We hung out with Kurt a couple weeks ago. If he was hiding someone, we'd know."

"Just because he's your brother," started Jesse. He turned what looked like bottle of cologne in his hand. "It doesn't mean you have to defend him. He betrayed us, remember?"

"If there's one thing I didn't miss it's your chemically induced hair do and that wannabe, classical drawl of your voice." Kurt ticked. Rachel hid her smirk at the quiver gone in Kurt's sip of coffee. "How are they working for you?"

"Okay! Enough of this lovers quarrel. Let's head out." Holly loosened up, striding over a pile of clothes they had made in the middle of the floor. "We've got Puckerman and I'm starving. We can look for him tomorrow."

Kurt twiddled his fingers at Jesse as he left the room right on Holly's heels. Finn furrowed his brow, casting a long look at Kurt. He placed a hand on his shoulder before peeling away and left. Rachel waited until they were far enough away before she spoke.

"Thank you," she muttered, glancing over her shoulder. Finn and Jesse were arguing by the jeep. Holly shot something snarky at them both which only set Finn off more.

Kurt's eyebrow slipped up. "For?"

"I know you have – had Sam," the other eyebrow joined the other in his hairline. "Sue's had Sugar spying on all of us. I'm unaware of just how long she has or why she has yet to reveal this to the others, but I know the truth."

"Why didn't you tell?"

She heard the jeep's engine roar to life. "I know why you left the hunters. She would've done the same to me if I hadn't lied and told her I'd help bring the other two in. She still believes I'm on her side."

"And why aren't you?" he asked, eyeing her closely. "Because the last I heard, you're picture was hanging in the station for Hunter of The Month,"

Rachel huffed just as someone blew the horn of the jeep. "Quinn," she admitted and Rachel's mind wondered to Shelby's and if Sue gave the okay to Sugar to raid the house. "She's-"

"Blonde, hazel eyes?" Rachel's eyes widened. It was Kurt's turn to smirk. "She and her friend were here not long before you showed up. Blaine got them out of here."

"Yes, well…" she trailed off, face heating up at the sly look Kurt was giving her. It reminded her so much of high school and the way he'd taunt her about Finn. Oh, what had happened since then?

"You have dug yourself into a hole, Rachel Berry," his voice was hard, but the look in his eyes was soft and understanding. "She threatened to murder my family if I stayed with Blaine."

"Including Finn?" Rachel blanched but Kurt only shrugged. He eyed the coffee in his cup gone cold. The horn screamed out at her. "I have to go, but thank you Kurt."

"I'm going to need a lot more thanks than that," she grinned, hugging him tight. It took a moment, but he returned it. She smiled even more as his arms circled her waist just briefly. She drew back and Kurt pushed her out of the door. "They'll be headed back to Shelby's," he told her.

Rachel nodded and waved as she hurried into the Jeep. She fell into the front seat and Jesse kicked it into gear.

They drove in silence with strings and horns playing from the radio. Rachel watched the streets go by, squinting through the snow to see if she got a glimpse of Quinn and Santana. Finn pouted like a five year old who didn't get his way in the backseat. Jesse held an unreadable smile on his lips.

Puck snarled and snapped at their hands as Jesse and Finn led him into the station. Sue stood at the front door, smiling triumphantly as Holly went to speak with her. Rachel slipped away before she could hear whatever Sue had to say to her and got into her car and left.

She replied to Brittany's worried text that everything was okay before she got out of the car and skipped up the steps of Shelby's house. She rang the doorbell three times and pounded the door. Her phone was out ready to call when she heard the locks snap.

Dim light filtered out of the house as Shelby answered, rubbing her eyes. "Rachel, it's three in the morning," she said, groggily.

"Where are Quinn and Santana?" Shelby's eyes blinked. "I know about Sam. I know that he was staying with Kurt. I also just came back from raiding every single motel on the west side of your district including the one Kurt was staying at."

"What? Rachel, slow down," Shelby, waved her inside. She didn't even mind to wipe her feet on the doormat as they walked into the living room. "Start over. What's going on?"

"The others don't know about Kurt having him," she explained, eyes glancing to the stairs, waiting for blonde hair and hazel eyes to come down them. "When we got there, Quinn and the others had just gotten away. Have they made it here yet?"

"No,"

Rachel cursed, pacing through the living room. Shelby watched her from the couch. "Sue has known all along about them and Sam," she continued. "She's been waiting for the right moment to blackmail you."

"I've covered my tracks and the girls will be leaving soon. If they came here they-"

"Sugar has been spying on you," Rachel blurted and Shelby's jaw dropped a fraction more. "That's why she applied to your store. But she's on the police force working for Sue. She's been trying to get something on you to run you all out of Lima."

"Oh,"

"Where are they?" Rachel asked again. She crossed the living room, pushing back the curtain to look out. "How long have they been gone?"

"I'm not sure. They left shortly after dinner I suppose but I missed exactly when. I've been making phone calls trying to figure out how to get Will Schuester out of jail."

Rachel clenched her jaw. A car went on down the street but no signs of the wolves. "We arrested Puck this evening,"

"He expected it," Shelby sighed and she was on her feet again, grabbing for her cell phone. "Go on upstairs and wait. They'll be back soon enough." She said just before addressing the person on the other line.

Rachel stayed at the window regardless, eyes scanning the street left and right, left and right. She had half a mind to go drive around until she spotted them, but they were too smart. They'd never put themselves in the open for Rachel to see.

She heard Shelby talking quick and low to someone in her phone. Rachel pulled out her own, texting to Brittany that she'd be home in the morning and not to wait up and worry about her. On Brittany's reply that she'd try, Rachel found her way up the stairs and into her old bedroom.

The bed was neatly made and everything was in place. Seemingly untouched as if Quinn and Santana were trying to make it look like no one had been there. She hurried to the window and looked out for a higher view.

The neighborhood was motionless as it was at three in the morning. Streetlamps blared, foggy pinkish light in the thick of snow that fell. It reminded Rachel of when she came back over a few days after Quinn told her she was leaving.

They found themselves in the forest yet again. Rachel had them go in deeper, afraid if they were spotted Sue would do something then. Or Sue would have Jesse snipe her from the treetops for fraternizing with a wolf.

It was snowing and Rachel was out of breath and heaving. She had sunk down into the bed of snow as Quinn's wolf came up, curling her furry body around her creating a shield from the brisk wind and holding in warmth.

She had never thought about how huge werewolves were. Larger than the average wolf and even bigger than an Irish wolfhound. All Rachel had thought about their size then was that she was grateful for it or Quinn would've never been able to wrap so much warmth around her shaking limbs.

Her frigid fingers burrowed into Quinn's coat and she pressed her face into the warmth of her side. Rachel could feel the heavy smack, smack of her heart through her fur. It pulsed against Rachel's cheek, weaving them together as similar all over again.

"I don't want you to leave," Rachel had muttered into that heartbeat.

Quinn shifted. Her nose pressed into Rachel's back and where she had been grasping fur she was soon grasping hold of hands. Fingers laced into hers and Rachel couldn't find her voice to tell Quinn she was insane. That she'd catch cold for being stark naked in the snow.

But she couldn't remember anything about health as Quinn's lips pressed into hers and those hands in hers pulled her forward until Rachel was flush against Quinn and holding her strongly around the neck.

"If I could do anything," Quinn had said into her ear. Rachel shut her eyes, holding Quinn on top of her, surprised the amount of heat that came off her skin just like it had with her fur. "I would stay. I'd stay for you,"

The door creaked open and Rachel stood up off the windowsill. She watched as Quinn alone came through the door. Her sun shining eyes instantly fell on her and she ran a hand through her messy, windblown hair. Pale cheeks and chapped lips were illuminated in the light of the lamp. Rachel saw the smallest of scars on Quinn's left cheek.

"Rachel?" she whispered, closing the door behind her. "Why are you-"

Rachel closed her eyes, hands holding Quinn's face as she smashed their lips together. She felt Quinn grab her around the waist, holding her up having tripped in her haste to get to her.

The rapid beat of Quinn's heart in her chest raged just as strongly as Rachel's own. She pulled up, using Quinn's shoulders as support to stand on her own two feet, but it hardly felt like she could support her own weight with the fervor Quinn was kissing her back with.

They broke a part a moment. Quinn took in a gasping breath. "Rachel?"

She panted just the same, hands going up to circle around Quinn's neck. "I had to know you were safe,"

Rachel pressed their lips back together. Quinn split her lips to allow Rachel's tongue entrance. Rachel moaned as her tongue grazed against a sharp canine. The sound triggered a sensual growl in the back of Quinn's throat.

Quinn pulled away. "Rachel," Rachel stared up into Quinn's eyes. They were gold, but they were bright gold. Brighter and richer than Rachel had ever seen them.

"This is selfish of me," Rachel leaned forward so her head rested on Quinn's chest just beneath her chin. "I know, and you're all in danger because of Sam. I know that now, but please don't leave. Please stay. Shelby can clear your name. You and Santana did nothing wrong. Just, stay with me."

There was silence. Rachel heard the wad of saliva Quinn swallowed go down her throat. "That is selfish," said Quinn, her hands resting on Rachel's hips.

"If you run then you'll all be killed. Sue has already called for the Manchester force to come and take you in just like we did Puck tonight."

"What?"

"If you stay, we could help," Rachel drew back so she could look at Quinn's face but she was turned away from her, staring at the window. "Shelby has done it before," she tried again, hands on Quinn's shoulders. "We can win this against Sue. Just stay,"

Quinn's brow wrinkled and her eyes lost that extra gleam she had just seen them with. With that, Rachel felt the mood shift. "But what about Sam?"

"He killed an officer," Rachel spouted off.

Quinn snapped her neck to look at her. Anger found way into her voice. "He's family,"

"He broke the law,"

"It was self defense. Shelby said she'd-"

"Shelby won't be able to do anything for him. Not this time. I know that for a fact."

"Rachel," Quinn shook her head, pulling away from her and walked over to the window. It had become Quinn's place of contemplation and worry just as it had been hers. "I have to leave and I'm leaving with Sam,"

She shivered in the place Quinn left her. Her arms wrapped around her torso. "You'll be killed,"

"We deserve it," Quinn ticked, but the harshness she was trying to muster wasn't there. "Isn't that what you hunters believe?"

"If so, I don't want to be a hunter anymore,"

Quinn laughed softly, head angled down and hands on the windowsill. "What will Sue do to you when she knows you betrayed her?"

"I don't care," said Rachel, hurrying over to her. "She still believes I'm helping her. That's the only thing that kept her from taking my silvers and shooting me."

"She was going to kill you?" Quinn spun around.

Rachel grabbed the front of Quinn's jacket and pulled her forward. "Rules are rules,

"We're leaving," Quinn muttered but the finality in her tone had ebbed away. Her hands fell onto Rachel's hips. "Me and Santana and Sam,"

"Quinn," Rachel took her face again. She pressed her lips desperately into hers.

She expected Quinn to fight her but she returned the kiss. It was all an inferno in her stomach at the taste of those lips against hers. Like it had been when Quinn kissed her in the snow and Rachel channeled her desire for Quinn to stay into it.

Like it had when they snuck back to her apartment and Rachel held Quinn against her door, trying to hear the growl in Quinn's throat again. But before she could. Quinn had slipped away from her and ran from her apartment.

But this time…

Rachel held her in place, forehead against Quinn's as they looked into each other's eyes. The intensity that had been in Quinn's irises at the first kiss was slowly finding way back.

"Stay with me?"

Quinn didn't answer her. She just molded their lips back together and allowed Rachel to walk them backwards, away from the window. Thoughts of Shelby and Santana downstairs came to her mind, but they quickly flitted away when the back of her knees hit mattress and they were sent sprawling across the bed.

And there was the growl. And there was Quinn's hand scooped underneath Rachel, lifting her ever so slightly off the bed and pulled her along as Quinn crawled further up the bed.

Her head bounced off the cushion as Quinn dropped her back down. Hands landed on either side of her head like paws did on so many occasions. Knees split on either side of her hips and Rachel felt a surge of fear and happiness as she saw Quinn's sharp teeth accompanied by her trusting eyes.

"Quinn?" Rachel palmed her cheek, smoothing over soft skin. Her fingers hooked behind Quinn's neck, lowering her down until their lips just barely brushed. "Stay with me?"

"I can't," Quinn whispered back. No. Wrong answer.

Rachel jerked her hand and their mouths collided. Rachel almost yelped at the teeth that took hold of her bottom lip. Quinn's body sank down so it lay flush against hers. Rachel felt heat pulse off Quinn into her and she bent her legs around Quinn's waist, pulling her closer – holding her in place against her.

Quinn shifted her hips just barely and Rachel gasped. "I can't do this with you," Quinn half growled as she tried to wiggle out of Rachel's hold.

She threaded her fingers into mused blonde hair, locking brown eyes with dripping golden ones. "Yes you can,"

"I can't stay,"

"Will you stay for tonight?" she asked, scratching Quinn's scalp. She felt the vibration of another satisfied growl course through Quinn's body that ignited fire in the base of her stomach.

"For tonight," Quinn answered her.

Rachel smiled, bringing her hands around to hold Quinn's face yet again. "Then tonight is all I want,"


	11. Part X

**Part X**

Rachel hadn't seen so many hunters since the raid when she was thirteen and Mr. Motta called on all of them. She had been excited for that one. Mr. St. James had even made an appearance with his scared up arms and the smell of oranges still on his breath. He had given a nod to Hiram, acknowledging his lose, and patted Rachel on the head.

The station lot was crowded. Mike had returned with his own weapons of a bow and sling of arrows strapped on his back. He had a few from the Findlay police force with him. All ex hunters, Rachel knew. The two vans beside them told Rachel they had brought along some of their trackers.

Mr. Motta appeared but void of Sugar at his side. Instead, she was with Chief Tanaka, sitting on the bumper of a car and messing with a knife in her hand. Rachel was almost surprised she hadn't yet dropped it afraid the thing would blow up in her face. The rest of the Manchester force came up not long after that. Holly got out of her car in her shiny forest green leather, waving a gloved hand for the others to get out.

"It's just like old times," said Jesse.

Rachel looked up at him from where she sat on the curb outside the station. His eyes were glowing and his lips never sealed his smile. Rachel blinked away from his eager face to look up at the moon. It was still high, high up in gray snow clouds, rivaling against the sun to make its shine. In a few hours, it would, and they'd all be on the hunt.

Finn came driving back into the lot with the van. Jesse skipped off the curb to meet him on the side of the building to give it one more wash down before the night.

"Hey," Brittany plopped down beside her.

Rachel casted a long look over her. She looked better, near healthy. The shine in her blue eyes was wonderful and her smile was just as bright as her attitude. Still Rachel winced. Quinn told her it was like this. That after the infection finished spreading, the fevers would ease, and the sickness would fade but the worst was yet to come. And Rachel knew it would be tonight when Brittany changed.

"You okay?" Brittany nudged her with her shoulder.

"Just tired," she answered, drawing on a small smile. It wasn't a lie. Not completely. She was tired.

She had spent the last three nights with Quinn down in the Jones' basement. It was the only safe place for them to go. It was the morning after they arrested Puck that the hunters came to pick up Shelby.

-/-/-/-

Low whispering had greeted Rachel as she roused from sleep that morning. She opened her eyes to see Quinn and Santana at the bedroom window. Santana pulled back the curtain just a hair for her to look through. Quinn peered over her shoulder at Rachel. She pulled the blanket further up her chest, brow furrowing at the empty look Quinn was giving her.

"Shit," Santana hissed, letting the curtain fall back into place.

"What's happening?" asked Rachel. She slid to the end of the bed, blankets winding even tighter around her legs.

"_You_," Santana snarled at her. "You just shut up."

"S," Quinn said sounding tired and frustrated. "We need to go. Now." Santana's dark eyes held on Rachel for a bit longer. Rachel balled the blanket up tighter under her chin unable to look away from the cold stare of those eyes and the bout of hatred that was ever so present.

There was no doubt Santana couldn't smell the scent of arousal and the aftermath of sex in the air. That itself had enveloped Rachel in the night as she clutched blonde hair and golden eyes sank into her. Somewhere in the night, Rachel remembered a snarling growl that had Quinn out of bed and talking low and quick to someone at the door. Rachel had willed herself back to sleep before the things Santana was shooting off about her could reach her sleep muffled ears.

Santana turned away from her, releasing the chokehold that her gaze had Rachel in. "And how the hell do you think we're going to do that?"

"What's going on?" Rachel asked again. Quinn looked at her with sad eyes. Where had that burning gone? Where had the passion that sent Rachel plummeting over a cliff and into clouds and way up into the stars gone?

"They're here for Shelby," she said and Rachel was instantly on her feet. The blankets wrapped tight on her ankles, sending her sprawling onto the carpet.

Instantly, she flipped herself over, trying her best to stay covered and wiggle the shirt her hand landed on over her head. Quinn was watching her all the while, teeth biting down to hold back a smile and Santana's eyes were wide and appalled.

Rachel scrambled to her feet, continuing her path towards them. Before she could reach the window, Santana stretched out her arm. Rachel rammed into it, sending her backwards. Quinn growled a terrifying sound.

"They'll see us if she messes with the windows!" Santana's snarl was just as fierce.

"Where's Shelby?" Rachel whispered, staying where she had been rocketed backwards to the edge of the bed. She saw her leather pants by her feet and quickly grabbed them. "Isn't she home?

Quinn nodded. "She's-"

"You have to leave," Shelby came bursting through the door.

Santana snorted. "No shit,"

"San," Quinn snapped her neck towards her. All the calm that Rachel was use to seeing on her was gone. Replaced with a fierce urgency. "Shut up and pack a bag or something. Just what we need."

"Uh huh," she moved quickly pulling two packs from under the bed and went to drop articles of clothing into them.

Rachel stepped into her leather pants. The back of the button was cold on her stomach. "How long have they been out there?"

"Almost half an hour," Shelby's eyes flickered over to her, taking her all in from mused hair to thrown on clothes. When she made it back to Rachel's face, she couldn't tell what her expression meant.

Shelby blinked away from her and went for the window. She leaned, peeking out the crack at the side of the curtains. "What're they waiting for?"

Rachel hurried to her mother's side. She pushed the drape over just enough for her to see down. Jesse's jeep was parked on the curb across from the house with Holly's black car just behind that.

Finn came up next in the hunting van. He and Brittany got out of it joining Holly, Sue and Jesse. Rachel's eyes watched Brittany falter as she moved. The movement in her limbs was less than graceful but she looked well enough. They must've dragged her out of the apartment when they couldn't get a hold of-

"Me," Rachel breathed. "They're waiting for me." She hurried back for the bed, pushing aside blanket until she found her phone. Missed call after missed call and text upon text blew up her notifications. "Oh,"

"Move," Santana shooed her to the side. Rachel moved so she could take the comforter. She rolled it up and laced it up to attach to one of the packs. "How're we going to get to Sam?"

"I'll take you," Rachel offered. Her phone shivered in her hands. Jesse's face and number popped up.

"Don't you dare answer that," Santana snapped.

Rachel dropped the phone into her lap as it went to voicemail. "I can call Kurt and let them know."

"I'm not sure…" Quinn trailed off.

Rachel found herself looking at those pale pink lips that had been all over her skin. Lips that hid sharp teeth that had nipped and bitten into Rachel's flesh oh so gently and painfully all at once. She hadn't felt it at first, but she could feel the bruises and tiny bites that decorated her skin. She blushed thinking of what Quinn had seen when she rolled out of bed.

Rachel swallowed. "Kurt still has a phone so wherever you end up, I can let him in on where that is."

"Mercedes," said Quinn suddenly. Eyebrows quirked. "They won't think to look there. They know Tina has a connection to everything because of Artie, but not Mercedes." Rachel saw Santana look at Quinn like she had grown a third head. "What? She's the only other human we can trust right now."

"And they've all worked out real nicely," her dark eyes flickered to Shelby, but she wasn't paying attention to them as she paced. "Can we jump?" she motioned towards the window.

Quinn sighed, running a frustrated hand through her short hair. "The drop will at least sprain something and we won't heal fast enough."

"Then what?"

"Go out the backdoor," Shelby instructed just as a series of knocks echoed up the stair and to their ears. They all froze. Rachel's eyes shifted to Quinn but she didn't look down at her. "I'll distract them long enough for you to get away."

"Shelby, no," Rachel protested.

"It will buy you some time. Here," she fished in the pocket of her pencil skirt. "Take my cell and call Mercedes. Let them know you're coming so they'll be ready."

Quinn took it and stuffed it into her pocket. The knocking grew harsher followed by muffled words. Her eyes finally found Rachel's with the tiniest flicker of what Rachel had seen the night before. What Quinn was trying to keep hidden for the sake of her leaving. It would never happen again.

Quinn licked her lips looking to Rachel. "What about you?"

"They're expecting me down there," Rachel found her knives and hooked them around her thigh. Somewhere in the room was her gun holster.

"Good riddance," Santana threw a pack into Quinn's chest. Rachel crouched to pull her holster from under the desk and buckled it around her waist. "Come on, Q. We need to split."

They hurried down the stairs to the chorus of fist banging on the front door and the yells of voices. Rachel hurried behind Quinn and Santana through the kitchen to where the backdoor stood before doubling back into the living area. Shelby was just at the entryway, face falling into cool and composed.

"What you're doing with Quinn is dangerous," Shelby hissed more out of worry for her than anger. "What were you thinking?"

Rachel sighed, just as she heard the backdoor open and shut. "She's leaving anyway,"

"You could lose everything for what you're doing,"

"I know," Rachel dropped her head. But what did Shelby say to her a few months ago? That she wouldn't be a hunter forever. That she would have nothing but Shelby to come back to. "I'll come and get you out when I can." She muttered bringing her head back up.

"I'm counting on you, sweetheart," she cupped Rachel's face, stroking her cheek with a thumb. "Don't get yourself killed,"

"Never," she rolled her eyes and ran out the backdoor with the wolves just as she heard Sue's voice yell out that Shelby was under arrest for the quartering of criminals.

Cupping her hands, Quinn crouched down. Santana pressed a foot into her hands and Quinn shot her up and over the fence. Rachel heard her land with a gentle thud into the snow on the other side. Quinn started to scale it but Rachel yanked her down and crouched, twining her own hands together.

"Go," Rachel ordered.

Quinn's eyes burned into her again. Rachel felt her stomach flip and her pulse kick up yet again. "What about you?"

"Don't worry about me," she shook her hands, urging Quinn to step up. "You get out of here,"

Quinn pressed her hand to Rachel's cheek. She leaned into the touch remembering the feeling of that hand sliding all over her skin in the night. "I'm sorry,"

"Go. Just go. I'll be okay." Rachel kissed the palm that was against her face then pulled away. "I'll call Kurt. Now, go."

Quinn touched her lips to Rachel's forehead as she stepped into her hands and Rachel launched her up and over. There was the sound of her hitting ground and then the hurried pads of their feet as they began to run.

"Rachel!" It was Finn's voice that came out of the back door

"Dammit!" Rachel pounded the fence with her fist. "Over the fence!" she pointed, turning to him. He held his rifle at his side. "When I got here, I saw them running through the yard. I wasn't quick enough." She forced on a pant.

Brittany came out of the backdoor with Holly. "When did you get here, Rach?" she asked, breezy voice too raspy and not at all like the voice Rachel remembered the girl having.

"Just now," she heaved, keeping herself from looking at Finn. She pointed towards the fence. "They went over."

"Where does it lead?" Holly asked.

"The path comes out at the park," she informed. By the time they got around, Quinn and Santana would be nowhere in sight. Or so she hoped.

"What're we all standing around her for?" Holly waved a hand and started back for the backdoor. "Get in the cars. We'll chase them down,"

Rachel hurried along on her heels, grabbing hold of Brittany's arm for support. "Rach?"

"I'm okay, Brittany," she took in a deep breath, fumbling with her keys to unlock the door of her car. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," the locks popped and Brittany yanked her door open.

Getting in, Rachel watched Sue and Jesse dragging Shelby to the van and tossed her in. The doors didn't slam quick enough for Rachel to miss the blood trickling down the side of her face and her jaw open slack.

-/-/-/-

Rachel's eyes pinched shut. She felt Brittany lace her arms around her as they sat on the curb. Three days had gone by. Three, and Rachel didn't know what exactly happened to Shelby.

Once Holly gave up the pursuit of Quinn and Santana, she had raced back to the station, but Shelby wasn't in a cell. She went to the Lima police station but they told her that Shelby couldn't accept visitors. Rachel flashed her hunters badge, demanded that she had the right to see her mother, but none let up. And all Rachel could see was the memory of blood dripping from a gash in her forehead.

Slender arms squeezed around her tighter. Slender arms that reminded Rachel of Quinn's. Quinn's hugging her when she arrived at the Jones' with Kurt and Blaine and Sam like she promised. Arms that held onto her waist as they lay on the sofa down in the Jones' basement. Arms that wrapped around her neck as Rachel's hips rolled into her.

She gasped, still able to feel the ghost of lips on hers and every scrap of clawed nails and sharpened teeth on her skin. Brittany had quizzed her about it. She'd poke at a bruise on her shoulder and Rachel would wave her away, but Brittany could smell it on her.

"It's dangerous," Brittany told her one night when she caught Rachel sneaking out of the apartment. Rachel hugged her and left. It wouldn't matter soon. Quinn and the others would be gone and she'd still be stuck as a hunter, killing them halfheartedly.

"Lima! Holliday!" Sue's voice ripped through the frigid air through a bullhorn. "Conference room,"

Brittany's arms loosened from around her as she stood. Rachel grabbed Brittany's hand letting her help her to her own feet. They trudged into the station with Finn and Jesse trotting up behind them. Holly was already inside, thermal mug of something in her hands. Rachel walked past her and caught a whiff of itg as Holly laughed at her second in command. Whatever she was drinking wasn't coffee.

They fell into the conference room. Brittany crossed her legs in her chair, elbows on the desk and chin resting on her hands. Rachel couldn't help but smile. She had missed Brittany in the past weeks.

Sue shot Brittany a glance from the head of the table and her elbows quickly slipped off the glossy wood. "Nice to have you back with us, Pierce," Brittany beamed and no one commented on the fact that her teeth were longer and pointer than normal.

"Listen here," Sue started with a tired sigh. "The only ones allowed to so much as look at the felons is you. I have instructed the others to leave them alone. They belong to us and the Manchester force only." They nodded. Holly sipped at her mug at the opposite head of the table. "As you know, Shelby Corcoran has been taken in,"

Rachel saw Jesse's gaze flicker to her then away. It was quick, just barely a glance, but Rachel caught it. She caught it and it made Rachel's heart pound and her hands sweat. What had happened to Shelby and why wasn't she allowed to see her?

"The wolves are already riled up," Sue continued, "and I can guarantee that some are going to make a run for it since Shelby is no longer around." The slight tug on Sue's lips made Rachel's blood run cold.

"What do you mean she's no longer around?" asked Rachel.

All eyes turned to her, but it was Sue's that she was locked onto. They rested on Rachel just as unreadable as they always were: void and empty and frigid. Only the quirk of her mouth gave Rachel something to take from her expression.

"Don't worry," Sue said, her voice dripping with contempt. "Your mother has been taken care of. I can assure you she won't be an issue during tonight's assignment."

The lump that grew in her throat kept Rachel from asking more. Taken care of could've meant many things. But taken care of, to them and to Sue, only meant one thing. Rachel's fist clenched tight at her lap and she blinked away from Sue to stare at the glossy table, canceling out the rest of her orders.

Shelby was taken care of. Shelby was dead. Her mother was gone.

-/-/-/-

What's more passionate than a lover's kiss but the stroke of the moon on skin?

Quinn tilted her head up to the sky, eyes closed but she knew the picture they would see were they open. Something like the moon could never be forgotten. It was something of her lineage, something embedded into her blood.

Cool air nipped at her naked skin. She could feel the tug of the moon in her bones. She was long past the age of being a slave to it, of having to make the change each time it was full, but the power it held was still intoxicating, still too good to pass up.

The crunch of snow sounded behind her. Quinn tilted her head to one side, recognizing the footsteps instantly to belong to Santana. She rested a hand on Quinn's shoulder as she came up on her side.

She opened her eyes. Tanned skin shined in the moon just as bright and rich as Quinn's peach tones. Behind her came Sam. His pale skin riddled with scratches and bruises. Poisoned burns of silver dotted his flesh. A whimper fell out of Quinn's throat at seeing them. Santana turned to look at her. The dark browns of her eyes now burned a heavy mix of mahogany and orange. They reminded Quinn of falling leaves in fall time.

"Are you ready?" Santana asked, looking out at the tops of trees peaking just above the Jones' high fence.

"No," she answered honestly. The tingle of Rachel's lips was still on her skin and the heat of her body was still simmering in her bones. Quinn allowed herself to relish in the memories for a moment longer before she choked them. "But we have to go,"

"Yeah," said Santana, stepping forward in front of her just as a chorus of howls rose up into the night air.

Sam came up on Quinn's side. He nudged her shoulder with his. His sea foam green eyes were a glittering forest green. "We'll make it," he assured her with a smile. Quinn returned it. The slide of the Jones' back door caught their attention. Mercedes stepped out, hurrying across the backyard to them.

"Here," she handed Quinn Shelby's cell phone. "Things end up going down hill, you give me a call. I put some of my dad's supplies in your bag. It's not much so be careful with it."

"Thank you, Mercedes," Quinn slid the phone into the front zipper compartment of her bag. She didn't think she'd ever use it. "You've done more than enough." Another set of howls rang out. There was eeriness in them mixed in with warning. The hunters were out.

"We need to go, Q," said Santana and Quinn nodded.

"Alright," Quinn sighed. "Let's go,"

Santana took in a deep breath, her skin rippling with goosebumps as she wield on the change. Bathed in the glittering light of the moon, her bones popped and her skin stretched. Fur burst across her arms, down her spine and encased strong legs.

Pressing a hand to Mercedes' shoulder in thanks, Quinn stepped away.

Adrenaline sang in her veins strong as her muscles tensed and she felt the first pops in her knees.

It was a sensually, painful sensation. The way her bones twisted and her joints cracked was an odd sort of pleasure; one she'd only compare to the euphoria after rolling beneath the sheets in her skins with bruised lips pressed against another's and skin sliding against skin until it exploded in the base of her stomach.

She completed the change at the feeling of Rachel grinding against her and swallowed down a howl at the pleasure of it mixed with the power of the moon. It made her see stars. Stars she felt like she could leap into and run with the comets.

Santana gave a throaty growl, paws hitting the dirt. Her black fur glistened like pure oil. Only her burning, brown orange eyes stood out along with sharp white teeth showing from an open muzzle. Quinn panted across from her, eyes golden like an afternoon sun and fur the color of fire's smoke and winter's snow.

Sam's change come over him slow, body trembling against the pain his human body would never actually get use to from the forced upon transformation. His dark russet and tan coat was shaggy like his blonde hair and his forest green eyes were just as bright and warm as his human self.

Santana scratched her claw at the ground getting their attention. She jerked her head towards the back gate door. Quinn slipped her front paw into the arm strap of her pack and used her teeth to pull it up and over her head so it rested just at her shoulders.

Mercedes came over positioning it better then helped Sam. Santana snapped at her hand. Mercedes rolled her eyes and backed up. "Relax, Satan," she quipped and Santana growled playfully.

Raising her tail up, Quinn stepped in front of the other two, claiming the lead like her father would've done had he been there. The smell of the night mixing with snow reminded her of Rachel. Of the days spent running by her side though the trees and hovering over the hunter with her hands stroking through her fur. Quinn shook them off, returning to the current time. Tonight, Rachel would be hunting them.

Sam stepped up to her left, standing a whole head taller than her. His mouth opened, panting in anticipation. Santana brushed her hunches on her way to stand on Quinn's right. Her teeth clamped down onto Quinn's ear, tugging. Quinn whimpered softly, letting Santana know she wasn't going to do anything stupid. They were in it together.

The back gate creaked open as Mercedes pulled it back.

And with one great howl, they sprinted.

-/-/-/-

Regardless of everything, Rachel couldn't stunt her excitement. There was just something about the feeling of her knives banging her thigh and the chorus of crunching boots around her that made her want to sing.

Gunshots and howls and barks and yells echoed over the trees. It was old days all over again. Old days when they'd be chasing full packs and taking them down. Rachel turned to her right and almost saw her daddy there instead of Jesse. But the image quickly evaporated just as quickly as death had taken him over followed by her dad and now Shelby.

Holly sprinted out in front of them. Her two pistols slapped each hip and the rifle on her back rattled with each step. Her second, Rory, ran up with her while Rachel and the rest of them lagged behind just barely.

"Hudson, to your left!" Holly snarled.

Rachel snapped her head to Finn on her left side. Just in the trees past him was a big, mammoth of a wolf. He whirled his rifle around and took a shot and missed. He cocked his gun again and gave another shot flooring the beast.

"Weapons at the ready, everyone," Holly sang out with so much glee it made Rachel doubt if she actually was a werewolf. Because Brittany beside her-

Rachel skidded to a halt, turning around to see Brittany with her hand pressed up against a tree and breathing heavily. Rachel trotted back to her. "Britt, come on," Rachel tugged her wrist. "Come on,"

Empty gray eyes turned up to look at her. "I'm coming," she said, voice scratchy and eyes blinking rapidly until the color faded back to blue and they started to run again.

They caught up to the others, guns pulled and shooting at moving shadows in the trees. Brittany shot out in front of her, brandishing her two long blades. Rachel watched her throw and slice, still running.

"Let's split up," Rachel suggested to Holly just as the headhunter stopped, whipped out her two pistols and took two shots at something too far off for Rachel to see. "We can cover more ground that way,"

"I like the way you think," Holly smiled. Her bluish gray eyes were a dazzling sky blue. "Rory, Hudson, you're with me,"

Finn furrowed his brow ready to protest when Rachel shook her head. "Go on, we'll find you," she assured him.

"Be careful," he warned and the three took off.

"Let's move," Jesse commanded and they started off again.

Rachel's chest burned from the air but the burn ached unlike it had done when she was running with Quinn. That burn she wanted to ignore and get past so she could keep up with the wolf. This burn just made her throat ache and her chest clench.

They continued to run, guns firing off. Rachel watched Brittany in front of them, occasionally shouting off directions for them to shoot. They were just coming up over a rise when Rachel watched Brittany stutter and collapse to the ground in front of her sending her body rolling.

"Brittany!" Rachel charged forward, boot sliding across the ground as she fell down beside her, dropping her gun. "Brittany, come on," She tucked her hands under Brittany's arms, trying to pull her up. "Come on,"

"I'm coming," Brittany heaved. "I'm coming," Rachel got her to her knees before she fell back into the dirt soiled snow. She rolled, turning to face Rachel with metallic gray eyes.

"Rachel-" her voice was wrong - distorted as her jaw shifted and her teeth sank out of her gums, growling longer. "Rach!" her terrified scream sounded more like a growl than anything.

"No!" Rachel took her face in her hands. She could feel her bones give way and crush Brittany's skull. "Brittany! Brittany! No, no, no!"

"Ra-" an ears splitting scream sang from her throat, eyes rolling back in their sockets.

Rachel shrank away, sliding across the dirt as she watched. The transformation wasn't like Quinn's. Quinn's was something of beauty to see her body shift to the animal dormant within. With Brittany it seemed wrong, a mutation like virus that twisted her back and cracked it.

Clawed fingers pulled at blonde hair as her knees broke through skin so bone shined bloody white in the moon before fur came to enclose it and form new tissue. Brittany's screams were gurgled as the notches of her spine snaked down, breaking out at the base to form a tail. Her vocal chords too changed to sound human let out a nasty mix of hacking and yelping whimpers.

Rachel was speechless, her mouth fallen open and slack. Everything about it was grotesque, an image she would never be able to wipe out of he memory and keep from her nightmares.

Just moments before she had Brittany running at her side, and now what, was left was a massive wolf. White fur, painted with few patches of golden fur was bloody and matted. It coughed sending specks of blood onto the snow then heaved, whimpering on unsteady, shaky legs.

Rachel swallowed. "Brittany?" her voice shook but the wolf heard it.  
Glitter gray eyes found her but there was no Brittany in them. All she saw was a murderous glint that bore down into Rachel.

"Brittany, it's me," she said, pushing up to lean against a tree. The wolf blinked, teeth bared and dripping with blood colored saliva. "Brittany," she cried. "It's me. Rach-"

The gunshot was so close Rachel felt the wind of the bullet pass her just before it made purchase in Brittany's throat.

And Rachel screamed.

She screamed so shrill, her voice gave out and her throat burned as she watched Brittany's wolf fall. Jesse tossed down his rifle, barrel still smoking from the shot and grabbed Rachel around the waist before she could run for their fallen hunter.

"Let me go!" she demanded, holding glossy gray eyes. "Jesse, you traitor! Let me go!"

"She's gone, Rachel," he said close to her ear, wrestling her face into the dirt. She was no match for his weight. "That wasn't Brittany. Brittany's gone,"

But what shuddered into a massacred lump of flesh, blue eyes empty and void and blood oozing from the wound in her neck, was Brittany. It was Brittany. And Brittany was dead.

"You killed her," Rachel cried into the dirt. She wanted to close her eyes and stop looking but she couldn't. She couldn't. "You killed her,"

"I had to,"

"No,"

"Rachel, I had to," he pressed through clenched teeth.

So maybe he did. Maybe that was what came of them when this happened, but that didn't mean it was right. And maybe Jesse knew that too because he hadn't let Brittany suffer. He made a clean shot that he never took to end her. And then it clicked.

"_I have a favor to ask of you, St. James,"_ Rachel heard Sue's voice say in her head. She had said it right before they left the conference room. Rachel had stopped at the door to look at Sue only to get that same smug, smirk that made Rachel's stomach squirm. The door shut before she could hear what she asked of him.

But now she knew. This was the favor Sue had asked him to do because she knew Rachel never would and Finn had too much a conscience to taint with the murder of a friend.

"Don't look," he pulled her up off the ground, cradling her face against his chest as she cried into his leather. "We have to keep going,"

Of course. There wasn't time to sit and wait. Rachel needed to find Quinn. If only one last time, she needed to find her. She needed to see those eyes to fill her back up with something because it was all seeping out of her like the blood from Brittany's fallen body.

She pushed away from Jesse, digging around until she found her gun and picked it up. Without a word, Jesse got up with her, holding his rifle at the ready and followed her through he trees, joining he pursuit of the other hunters.

-/-/-/-

Dirty snow kicked up under their paws as they ran. Quinn kept her eyes peeled and her ears alert. Gunshots echoed off the trees adding onto the chaotic symphony of howls and yells of men. In the back of her mind, she saw Rachel brandishing her gun and running swiftly through the brush with her knife sheath banging against her thigh.

She saw Rachel trotting alongside her in the snow at dusk and her hands combing through Quinn's coat. She saw Rachel above her, hips rolling into her and looking down at Quinn with so much broken passion it had ached.

Santana snapped at her. Quinn snarled back at her then whimpered. Santana's growl was low but Sam's bark brought them both back into focus. They had Sam. They were leaving. Rachel didn't matter. Quinn would repeat it over and over in her head until they broke out of the Allen Count line and out of Ohio.

Teeth clamped down onto her tail and yanked hard. Quinn felt herself drag across the dirt just as an arrow whizzed through the air above her. Another sang through the air and she rolled, watching Santana bound away and Sam leap.

It didn't matter now if they killed any of them. So Quinn just watched as Sam darted another arrow, creating a distraction for Santana to clamp her jaws around the arm that was going for another arrow.

Quinn heard the rip of flesh and barked as the man yelled. That was enough. There was no time to howl and relish in their victory kill. Kill. When was the last time Quinn actually gotten to kill something? She shook it off and stomped a paw, tail rising like a flag and they hurried off again.

Bullets sparked at their paws too close for comfort. Feet pounded around them, but they were faster, even more so with the full moon singing in their veins. Sam and Santana thundered on each side of her and Quinn got a glimpse of old days, in their village running together like they were their own pack. She couldn't deny how good it felt to be back there again.

Santana barked at her side and Quinn turned to her seeing her nose raised in the air and twitching. Quinn followed suit, taking in the air. The smell of gunpowder and smoke and blood rose up in the night much the same as it had done when they were burned out years ago

She took in a stronger breath and a powerful stench of fresh carnage wafted into her nostrils so strongly, she changed course before she knew it. She could smell the footsteps of hunters come though and past. They were farther ahead, giving them a moment to breathe, but Quinn couldn't breathe with that stench. It was strong, the mix of human blood and the sweet fragrance that of wolf.

They came up over a rise and the sight of blonde hair fanned out around a gentle face in the dirty snow had Quinn leaping down quickly until her paws stopped next to the fallen body of Brittany.

The bullet wound still bleed, dripping down her chest. Her skin was split open at the knees and her mouth was a sea of red from where her teeth had sprung out. Bloody fingers curved ever so slightly at her sides and her blue eyes were empty and dead as they stared up into the night sky.

Quinn bristled at the sight, but knew there would've been nothing they could've done. Brittany couldn't have been saved to come with them. New werewolves were dangerous, uneducated, too much of a threat. Still, it pained Quinn to see the result. Could they not have done something?

Santana came up on Quinn's side, whimpering as her nose nudged Brittany's arm. Quinn could see the memories go through Santana's mind. Of nights laughing with Brittany in the kitchen or talking low in the study. She didn't stop Santana when she lifted her muzzle up and sang a sorrowful song into the air. Quinn echoed it just the same.

Sam barked at them once they finished. He cocked up his head signaling for Quinn to sniff again. Her heart raced when she caught Rachel's fragrance in the air. She was near, just having past not too long ago. Quinn wondered if it were Rachel who put Brittany down, but when she caught the stench of another – the one by St. James – she knew who'd done it.

Quinn scratched at the dirt and howled for them to follow. They skipped up the rise and Quinn looked back once more before they left Brittany to the earth.

-/-/-/-

"Dammit, where are they!" Jesse hissed.

They were stopped at a clearing, joined back up with the other three. Rachel leaned her back against a tree, knees sagging and chest heaving. She was tired. She didn't want to go on any longer. Her body was screaming at her but not because the soles of her feet ached and her face was frozen stiff. It screamed for Brittany and it screamed for Shelby.

She leaned over, hands resting on her knees as she gasped for air. She had seen too much death in her lifetime. Too much of it happening right before her eyes and to the ones she loved the most. It hurt almost too much for her to bear anymore. It kept tugging at her heart and caving in her chest because she had nothing else. Shelby had opened the door for Rachel to come back to her because her fathers were no more. Now Shelby was gone and Brittany was gone and Quinn was-

A howl drifted through the trees a sweet note that made Rachel's lips smack at its sweetness. It came again, far, far off but her keen ears picked up the ghost of a sound and she rose up her head.

The others looked around at each other. Holly was talking plans to the others and Rachel pretended to be engaged, but she was listening to the song again. The song and the notes that Rachel had tried to imitate herself, but she could never do it. She could never match the symphony that Quinn's throat created.

"Rachel, where are you going?" Finn asked. She stopped mid step, her feet already drawing her the direction she heard the howl come from.

"We should all split up," she told them, looking from one dirt streaked face to the other. "I know them. They'll be expecting all of us." She tried again just like she tried that night Jesse held his rifle up to shoot Quinn. "We go as individuals. If one of us spots them, we don't attack. We signal for the others. Two gunshots in the air."

"That's too dangerous," said Finn then looked around. "Where's Brittany?"

"Brittany's dead," Rachel snapped before Jesse could say anything. Finn's mouth fell open and Rachel saw his heart break in his eyes. She looked away. "It's dangerous, but I believe that this will work. They have obviously outsmarted us so why not outsmart them?"

"Rachel has a point," said Jesse. Rachel couldn't help but think he only backed her up out of pity. "Let's all scatter and give the signal if we spot them. Two gunshots?"

"Two gunshots," Rachel nodded, taking hold of her gun. "Then we attack from all side."

"I like this, I like this," Holly nodded. She ruffled Rory's hair beside her. He ducked his head and got his own guns ready. "Lets go kill some wolves!"

Rachel didn't wait for anything more. "Two gunshots!" She called over her shoulder as she started to run.

The boots of the others raced off in different directions behind her. Rachel didn't even try to conceal her panting or the sound of her running. Other wolves past her and she took a shot before one could attack her and hit the dirt as a stark white wolf leapt at her out of nowhere.

Rolling, she tugged a knife out of its sheath and rammed it into its side. Red blotched snow white fur but jaws still snapped at her face. She rammed the heel of her hand into it's throat, trying to collapse the windpipe and hold it off as she yanked her other hand back and plugged the other knife right into the scuff.

The wolf's snarl was gargled as it eased up, thrashing about and wheezing. Rachel scattered to her feet, not waiting to see who or what the beast shuddered back into.

"Quinn, where are you?" she muttered through gasps of air. "Come on, where are you? Where are you?" Tears weld up in her eyes.

Her shoulder clipped a hanging branch that ripped open her leather and slashed her shoulder. She hissed, and came to a stop, knees falling into the ground. Rachel took deep gulps of air and swallowed to wet her throat. She searched for the right note, the one she had heard many times in the woods whilst running beside Quinn.

Taking a deep breath, she let it sing. It was raspy, nowhere near the crisp note she had mustered before. But her throat was too dry to get anything but that. Rachel panted again and drew in another breath echoing the song with worn pipes.

"I know you hear me," Rachel said through her teeth. "Quinn, I know you hear me. Please." Rachel clutched her jacket at her chest. "Please, answer me,"

And she waited.

She waited on her knees in the snow. Tears pooled into her eyes and Rachel let them flow out. Body keeling over, Rachel lay against the cold ground, fingers clutching at dirt so it rode up under her fingernails and she closed her eyes.

The pad of paws or feet sounded around her but Rachel ignored them. Whoever it was, whatever it was, it could kill her. It could kill her and take her away like everything else had been.

"Quinn," she wheezed, knees pulling up into her chest. "Please," Rachel sobbed, eyes tight and arms wrapping around her torso. "Please,"

"Since you asked so nicely," Rachel's eyes shot open at the voice. She blinked away her tears, locking her gaze on the pair of golden ones looking down at her.

"Quinn?" Rachel stuttered, wiping tears out of her eyes. Her body uncurled and she lurched forward, arms wrapping around Quinn's naked shoulders. Lean arms came around her waist, pulling her closer still. Rachel buried her face in Quinn's neck, breathing her in and touched a kiss to her skin.

"Didn't we say last night was the last?" Quinn sighed, but pulled her closer still.

"I don't care," Rachel touched another kiss at Quinn's throat. "I needed to see you one more time," her lips found chin and she kissed up the line of Quinn's jaw, over her cheekbone. "Brittany's dead,"

"I know," Quinn's hands smoothed up her back and came to lock in her hair. Rachel pulled back just enough to look into her glowing eyes. "I saw her. Jesse?"

Rachel nodded. Her chin quivered. "So is Shelby," Quinn gaped and Rachel felt her insides cave in. "She's gone,"

Rachel fell with her head against Quinn's chest. She could see Santana's wolf watching them quietly a few feet away. The other wolf she knew to be Sam was pacing around, ears and eyes alert.

She turned away, pressing her cheek against Quinn's naked chest and clutched her against her just like she had done the previous night. She had held onto Quinn, eyes closed to the clock that told her she needed to go. But Rachel ignored it, letting the heat of Quinn's body radiate into her. She ignored it and nuzzled her face into Quinn's bare chest, breathing her in and wishing the fire inside her gut would never ease.

"Don't go," she muttered, eyes still closed.

Quinn loosened her grip around her. "Rachel," Rachel felt the vibration of her voice against her face. She melted into it, remembering the growl that shook through Quinn and right into Rachel the other night.

She pulled her head back up. "I know," Rachel grabbed blonde hair, pulling Quinn forward so their lips crashed into a kiss. Hands came around Rachel's waist, pulling her tighter.

She bit into the kiss, trying to soak up everything from it. Sharp teeth scraped across her tongue and hands massaged through the leather against her back. Rachel let her hands wonder of naked flesh, feeling all of Quinn once again.

Quinn's mouth left hers to move down her jaw and down to her neck where she nipped, leaving tiny red marks that wouldn't go away for days. Rachel's head lulled back, fingers threaded into blonde hair.

"I'll find you," panted Rachel.

"Don't," Quinn said making her way back to her mouth. She kissed her deeply once more then pulled away to stand. Rachel took her hand, letting her pull her to her feet. She strung her arms around Quinn's neck again. The thunder of paws sounded off to the right. Sam's head snapped over to it and Rachel lowered her voice.

"I'll find you," she whispered, brushing short, blonde hair from Quinn's golden eyes.

Light lashes fluttered as Quinn eased into her touch. "No,"

"You can't stop me,"

Quinn opened her mouth to retort but shut it quick and laughed. "You're right," she said. "But I wish you wouldn't. I'll always be on the run."

Rachel smirked, hands cupping Quinn's face. "I can keep up," she muttered.

Quinn grabbed her hands, pulling them away from her face to kiss each palm. "You're only human," she whispered, touching her lips to Rachel's forehead. "I have to go,"

Rachel nodded, ducking her head so Quinn was forced to meet her eyes. "I'll miss you,"

"I'd be lying if I said I don't hear that from many hunters."

"How about none?"

Quinn laced her fingers with Rachel's drawing her back into her. "Only one,"

Rachel drew forward, pressing one last kiss to Quinn, ignoring the throaty growl Santana was giving her. "I'll give you one minute," she whispered as they broke apart. "That's all I can give,"

Rachel's hand stayed in Quinn's fingers until she was out of reach and her arm fell to her side. She watched as Quinn's bones popped and fur came over her skin easier than Rachel had ever seen it happen. She watched until nothing but a mass of gray and white fur stood in the place where Quinn once had. Her golden eyes blazed in the dark and her fur glistened as she shook it out.

"I'll find you," Rachel said again as Quinn's back turned.

Santana and Sam came up to flank each side of her and her paw beat against the ground. Head rising to the sky, Quinn let out one final howl before they started to run again, their paws pounding and their pace urgent.

Rachel counted the seconds in her head, listening as the sounds of their departure grew quieter and quieter until there was nothing more than silence and the ghost of Quinn's howl on the air.

Rachel grabbed her gun, holding it high above her head and shot two gunshots into the sky.


	12. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Rachel turned in her silvers at the age of twenty-five.

She drove down the stretch of road that led to the station, fingering the pentagram that rested nicely against her black shirt. She was afraid she had lost it once when she was ten and that wolf yanked it off. But Kurt was the one who had placed it back into her hands a couple days later and she felt safe all over again.

Kurt turned the volume knob of the radio so the news report could be heard louder. Mr. Chang had just finished giving a speech at Findlay city hall that any wolf of the resistance would be taken under custody or killed on the spot were they to disobey orders.

"Turn that off," Rachel muttered and Kurt hurried to switch them into silence with only the air conditioner providing a gentle hum.

She rolled Finn's old truck up to the station. It had been expanded on again for more office space and more security. Rachel had been there when a contractor laid out the blueprints to remodel the cells and add more onto them. Cars filled the parking lot now. Official hunter cars along with the few police cars decorated officially marked parking places. Like the one marked deputy that Sugar had earned for herself.

"Want me to come with you?" Kurt asked, undoing his belt.

She shook her head, and climbed out. "Keep the car running," she told him. "Get in the driver's seat,"

After this, they'd have to peel out of there and go zero to ninety to pick up Blaine who was hidden along the outskirts of town. It was no longer just a risk to bring werewolves into Allen County. It was near impossible. She felt bad for begging Kurt to come with her and leave Blaine, but he had been understanding about it and kissed his boyfriend good luck.

The station door swung open and shut without a single creak. Rachel pushed up her sunglasses and dragged a hand across her damp forehead. Jesse looked up at her with a gentle smile. It didn't touch his eyes. It never had when he smiled at her ever since he put that bullet through Brittany.

Rachel looked away from him before her memories caught up with her. That was three years ago. She was past it. There was nothing that could've been done. It needed to happen. Yet, she never fully believed that.

Jesse watched her walk into the station, past Sugar who now wore black and leather and who had her own desk in the room across the way with Finn. Finn who would never step out of the boundaries of Sue because he didn't want to see his family turn up in a grave. Rachel wasn't bitter about it. His family was everything to him and he and Jesse were about the only two who still had one to run back to.

He waved at her while Sugar kept her eyes on the blinking light on her phone. Rachel stopped when she got in front of the door marked Sylvester.

She didn't even knock as she opened the door to Sue's office. She turned up to look at her, finger in the air telling Rachel to wait as she continued to speak into the phone.

Ignoring her, Rachel reached up to yank her silver necklace off and threw it onto the desk.

"Hold on a minute, Chang," Sue said. She put the phone down and pressed the hold button. Her cold eyes turned up to Rachel, hands folded beneath her chin. "You know once you hand these over to me, I'll have to kill you?"

Rachel didn't react. She had thought Sue was going to do it during that full moon and she let Quinn, Santana, and Sam get away. Sue knew. Sue had to know it was her. But for some reason she didn't kick Rachel off and Rachel never saw the barrel of Jesse's rifle on top of the station pointed to her as she walked out.

Maybe it was because Sue thought that forcing her to stay a part of the clan working under her with the death of Brittany and her nonexistent mother looming over her everyday. It was likely, it was very likely, and quite frankly Rachel was sick of it.

Rachel was sick of it and had never had a reason to get out. Until now. Until Mercedes called her up from some restricted number and told her that Quinn was safe. That Quinn had contacted her from someplace southwest and was still running.

That was all Rachel needed to phone Kurt to help her and send her packing and right on out of Lima and Allen County and Ohio.

"I do hate to waste good talent," Sue sighed.

She picked up the necklace and Rachel almost went to snatch it away. It had been a gift from her fathers. But it was also a reminder of how she spent her life for twenty years. She'd always have her dads in memories and pictures and things that silver could never hold.

"Did you think that when you asked Jesse to kill Brittany?"

Eyebrows rose up and Sue laughed mockingly. "This is about your dead mutt? My, Berry, I thought you'd come in here and leave for some grandiose reason. You're already used goods,"

"Am I?" she said, slinging up her gun, and before Sue had the chance to yell out, Rachel pulled the trigger.

She waited in the silence, watching the shock on Sue's face as blood stained the front of her blouse at the center of her chest. It was only there a moment before body slumped forward.

"That was for my mother," Rachel muttered, replacing her gun and left the office.

Heads poked out of doors and the yelling from the cells had ceased. Finn stood at the door of his office jaw dropped and face beat red. She made it into the lobby where Jesse was staring at her with jaw dropped and eyes wide.

She felt the night of the hunt come back to her. Of her aching limbs and her pulsating heart. She had felt so empty that night. So empty and cold and numb as she tried to push the fact Shelby was gone out of her mind and focus on their assignment. But seeing Brittany's body break and that bullet sing through her shattered Rachel even more and the retreating back of Quinn took all she had left away.

"Rachel?" Jesse's head tilted as he looked up at her from his desk. The station was quiet as Rachel's fingers tingled as they brushed the metal of the gun on her side.

"Rachel, what did you-" She didn't allow Finn to finish asking. She pulled the trigger again, walking past Jesse. His classical music played on after the ring of the gunshot faded.

"That was for Brittany," Rachel choked, staring at Jesse's wide open eyes that were staring at the smoking barrel of her gun. A drop of blood slid down his temple from where the bullet grazed his skin and made purchase through a newspaper hanging on a cork board behind his head.

Tucking the gun away, Rachel shoved the front door opened and kicked into a sprint. Kurt pushed the passenger door open for her and she crawled in just as the station lot started to flood with hunting officers.

"Go," she ordered, brushing a stray tear off her cheek. The wheels screeched as Kurt hit the gas and they peeled off.

"You okay?" He asked, glancing over at her shaking hands.

"Yeah," she said, folding them together to lie in her lap. She glanced up to the rearview mirror to see Finn standing at the door of the lot, face white as paper. "I'll be alright,"

She would be all right once they were out of Lima.

She would be all right like she had been when she had gotten that call.

She would be all right when she finally fell into those arms and golden eyes brought her back to life.

_Fin.  
_


End file.
